Redeeming Draco Malfoy
by Nova.8
Summary: The summer after the war in a new Ministry rebuilding programme, Ginny Weasley learns that there is more to the proud, arrogant wizard she had hated on principle and by association. While he had never given her a reason to see him as anything more than a rich, world class prat before, redeeming Draco Malfoy might just leave Ginny susceptible to falling for him ... and him her.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** _So, while re-reading this story with the intention of getting in touch with it again, to be able to update and complete it, I found the content in the chapters terribly flawed. Therefore, I felt like the best option would be to just delete the entire story and start re-posting the edited chapters. I sincerely apologise to readers/followers, but the plot will remain the same, and the content will just be spruced up with the hope that it will become a much better read than the first time around. Enjoy!_

 _Nova*_

 **Redeeming Draco Malfoy**

 _ **Chapter One**_

 **GINNY** Weasley's big, brown eyes opened widely to bright sunlight filtering through her bedroom window. She took a moment to register her surroundings. Slowly a smile formed on her full lips and she stretched lazily in her tiny but comfortable bed.

The red head closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the sounds of birds chirping in the orchard outside, the familiar rattling of pots and pans downstairs and the wonderful aroma of bacon and eggs wafting up to her bedroom.

For Ginny those noises sounded like peace.

The War had been over for four months now and with the arrival of summer, feelings had started to morph from the deadly gloom everyone had been feeling to acceptance. Light and hope had filtered through the cracks of loss that they had all experienced, healing wounds and reminding her family and friends that they were alive. After all, not being dead was definitely something to be grateful for. They had mourned angrily, stayed silent in misery and had been altered because of broken hearts, but a new dawn had emerged and it had finally become time to move on.

The first step forward should have been easy after everything they had been through, however, letting go had proved to be much more difficult than accepting a loved one was gone and never returning. After a while, they had made it though. And while it still felt like they were sometimes dodging pain like determined bludgers, Ginny knew that as long as they had each other, they could overcome anything.

Ginny had made it her mission to smile and ensure everyone else around her knew that they could count on her if they needed. That was how she had dealt with her grief. She had occupied herself with placing everyone else's needs first, so that it became easier to forget to focus on her own pain. Slowly the throbbing aches had dulled into residual soreness.

Ginny pulled on a well worn, but still cosy, dressing gown and headed towards the bathroom. Her body felt more relaxed than it had ever since the War had began and she was relieved that she was getting more sleep in nowadays. Moving straight for the bathroom basin, Ginny placed her palms on the edge and looked up at the chipped mirror above it.

"You can do this." The witch told herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror and took in a deep breath. Ginny brushed her teeth before splashing water on her face. Then the red head smiled encouragingly at her dripping image before nodding determinedly and wiping her face dry. She had taken to starting off her days with confidence and positive energy ever since the War had began. In doing so, Ginny had managed to salvage her sanity, at least.

Ginny jogged down the rickety old steps of the Burrow, jumping over the hole where almost an entire step was now missing. The familiarity of her childhood home made her feel thankful that she still had the Burrow, her parents and her family. Even though there would always be a painful reminder in her chest due to Fred's absence, she knew that there were better ways to honour her brother's memory than to sit around and spend her days wallowing. That was not something Fred would have wanted either. Plus, she had cried so much in the past four months that Ginny doubted she had any tears left to shed.

That was not entirely true though. The smallest mention of Fred or Remus and Tonks, or Colin and every other friend who had died during the War could still make tears spring to her eyes and her throat burn with sadness. However, Ginny had become so accustomed to the reaction that she had mastered how to keep her tears from spilling over. Harry had helped her monumentally with overcoming Fred's death and she had spent much time with George, reliving their memories of Fred to help them both with their healing process. Taking strength from only those two wizards had allowed her a modicum of composure when it had mattered most.

"Morning, mum." Ginny greeted. The young witch watched Molly Weasley turn around from the pots she stood over.

"Good morning, Ginny." Mrs Weasley smiled at her daughter as Ginny placed a soft kiss on her plump cheek.

Ginny had taken to being a little more affectionate towards her parents after the War. Partially due to the fact that she no longer took them for granted after having come so close to losing them, and because she knew deep down she was trying her best to fill the gaping hole Fred had left them with. While there was a light absent from Mr and Mrs Weasley's eyes, one that used to sparkle for Fred alone, Ginny knew in her hopeful heart that it would return one day. One step at a time.

"Is everyone at work then?" Ginny asked as she looked at the clock on a kitchen counter nearby, one that actually told the time.

"Yes, dear. I thought you deserved a bit of a sleep in." Mrs Weasley bustled around the kitchen, setting down breakfast for herself and her daughter.

Mrs Weasley had lost much weight in the past four months, so Ginny had made it a habit to eat meals with her mother when her father was not around. As of late it had been the younger witch who would try and coax her mother into eating, therefore seeing Mrs Weasley lay out the table today made Ginny smile. She was just pleased that life seemed to be slowly going back to normal. Well as normal as could be. There were many changes that had taken place after the War, some more difficult than others and some that would only become easier with time. Yet the Weasley family – extended members included – dealt with it together and that was where they had drawn their strength from, from one another.

"Thanks, mum." Ginny appreciated as she smiled warmly at her mother. She was about to sit down when she noticed a large, tawny owl swooping towards their kitchen window. "I'll get it, mum." Ginny placed a small hand on her mother's shoulder to keep Mrs Weasley seated. The younger witch untied the letter from the Ministry owl before the bird flew away gracefully again.

Turning around to lean on the window ledge, Ginny took the mail that was addressed to her and opened the Ministry seal carefully. Her bright brown eyes widened almost comically, so much so that it was quite possible that they would pop out of her sockets if she didn't stop glaring at the piece of parchment in her hands.

In bewilderment she read the correspondence she had received for her summer internship once more, before turning it over to ensure it really was the Ministry seal on the letter. Ginny then inspected the letter again before bringing it closer to her eyes. When she was certain that she had not misread the words written there, she brought the letter up to her nose.

Watching Ginny, one would have thought it a silly notion to sniff new parchment, but Ginny knew better. She was trying to tell if the letter was a joke from Fred and George by the way it smelled. It was something that the twins … Ginny stopped abruptly as she remembered that it was only George now. Refusing to be plagued by sadness Ginny shook her head slightly to redirect her thoughts. George was doing fine, her family was coping and the War had been over for months now.

"Ginny, dear, what are you doing?" Mrs Weasley turned to see why her daughter had not yet returned to their old, wooden table for breakfast.

The older witch watched Ginny as she licked her thumb and suspiciously tried to rub at the black ink, scripted neatly and professionally against the crisp parchment in her hand. Mrs Weasley's frown deepened at the odd behaviour.

"I am simply checking if this is a hoax, mum." Ginny grumbled as she turned the letter up and down in her hands.

"What is, Ginny?" Mrs Weasley set down her cutlery as Ginny went over to sit next to her mother.

With Hogwarts completely wrecked and a war to clean up after, the start of term would only start in October rather than September that year. It allowed the dust to settle, literally and figuratively, as Hogwarts was only just nearing its completion stages of being rebuilt. The Ministry wanted to ensure that the Castle was safe for its students return. Also, there were many people who had been on the run during Voldemort's reign and were slowly being found and returned home.

In the interim the Ministry had decided to use the time in between for the rebuilding of their community as well. Since she had turned seventeen weeks ago, Ginny had decided to sign up for a Ministry reformation programme, The Repentance Workshop.

The workshop was a way for young adults to assist with the appropriate rehabilitating of other witches and wizards, closer to their own age, who had chosen to side with Voldemort during the War. Namely the Slytherins who had taken perverse pleasure in the blood-traitor torture that had become part of the syllabus after Dumbledore's death. Kingsley had wanted to reduce the number of people that would be sent to Azkaban, so Harry, Ron and Hermione had come up with the idea for him. It ensured that the younger or aspiring Death Eaters were held accountable for their actions but not by the same laws that punished fully grown wizards. Since Kingsley had felt that Azkaban would do more harm than good for the young dark witches and wizards – who were simply misguided by their parents, in his eyes – he had approved of the idea. The temporary Minister for Magic had been of the opinion that being paired with witches and wizards who had fought with Harry during the War would help show them the light, so to speak.

Hermione had suggested something that the Muggles called community service, and the new Minister had thought it a brilliant plan to implement in the Wizarding world as well. Who wouldn't fancy the idea anyway, considering it had come from the brightest witch of their age and backed up by Harry Potter – Chosen One and defeater of the Dark Lord? Therefore, Ginny, who had never been one to sit idly by, had joined in.

Now she was seriously rethinking her chivalrous choice.

"Oh, my." Molly said softly as she too turned over the letter, examining it to make sure it wasn't a prank.

"Exactly." Ginny agreed while biting into a streak of bacon with a little more ferociousness than was necessary. All the while Ginny was thinking how she could chew and spit out whoever it was that had picked her Repentance Workshop partner.

The official letter that had arrived for her today had included instructions on her new charge. Her accused was none other than Draco Lucius Malfoy.

 **. . .**

Draco Malfoy shielded his eyes with the back of his arm as his mother magically opened the thick and expensive curtains of his large bedroom.

"Mother." Draco groaned out as he turned around on his stomach and buried his face into his fluffy pillow.

He reconsidered stirring with such speed as his head spun from the movement. Draco wondered if he could convince his mother to brew up a hangover remedy for him as he was sure he had forgotten to replenish his own stock.

"Get up, Draco. I can not _believe_ that you would come home at three this morning with everything that has been going on." Narcissa Malfoy reprimanded coldly as Draco heard her approach the side of his bed.

He moved his blonde head a little to the right so he could peak at his mother with one bleary, grey eye. She stood tall and impressive as she always did in her immaculate dress robes, not a strand of her shiny blonde hair out of place. It was only her icy blue eyes that showed Draco how pissed she really was with him.

"Don't worry, mother. I was up in Scotland with Theo and Blaise. I doubt any of the scavengers here could get their hands on a story."

"Funny you should say that, son." His mother's voice held no humour though. Her tone was chilly and clearly restrained.

Draco winced. He really did not want to be subjected to his mother losing her temper when he felt like he was about to lose his intestines. Her endless hours of lecturing with no hangover potion, ultimately meant that the trolls in his head would break his skull by the end of the day. Draco groaned.

"Don't you moan at me. Look at this, Draco." Narcissa whacked him over the head with a newspaper, by the feel of it. Only it had felt like she had taken a sledgehammer to his cranium in his current state, and with a long suffering whine, Draco turned around to sit up in his lumps of silk sheets and luxurious duvets.

He took the paper his mother handed him but noticed that she was also holding a letter in her other hand. He sighed as he wondered how much torture he would have to go through today. Deciding to deal with one blasted menace at a time, Draco inhaled deeply and opened the Daily Prophet his mother had given him. Grey eyes scanned the article and he immediately snarled at the offending paper.

"There is no use in griping at something that is your fault. I told you to wait, Draco. Just until this mess is behind us. Until after two months when your father's sentence is revisited." Draco drowned out Narcissa's ramblings as he flung the paper away from him in disgust.

While Potter and his two loyal sidekicks had given personal testimonies – and it seemed that the golden trio's word was almost law now – Draco and his mother had been saved from going to Azkaban on various conditions, of course. Lucius, unfortunately, was spending a minimum of six months in Azkaban for his War crimes before his case could be revisited. Draco thought that this was a light sentence compared to the other Death Eaters who were either dead, on the run like dogs or imprisoned for life. However, considering all the valuable information concerning Voldemort's inner circle that Lucius had so willingly traded with the Ministry to save his own hide, Draco wasn't surprised.

For avoiding Azkaban, Narcissa's charges had been for her to give her time working in various Muggle charities and donating vast sums of Malfoy gold towards the damages the War had caused for the useless creatures. The Malfoy assets were currently seized by the Ministry but that didn't bother Draco since not all their gold was kept in a vault at Gringotts. Also, the money that the Ministry saw fit to spend was small change to Draco. However, the shame for working like a common Muggle was a hefty price to pay in his eyes.

Draco sniffed at the thought and ran his hands through his mussed hair. The blonde strands fell back onto his forehead like fine silk without a holding charm to keep them slicked back. Draco knew his fate could have been much worse. He could be sharing a cell with his father in Azkaban right at this moment, though that thought didn't make the humiliation any easier to bear. And that wasn't the worse of Draco's punishments. He had been asked to sign up for the newest stupidity disguised as competence by the Ministry.

The Repentance Workshop.

Even the name was unimaginative and he already hated the darn thing for simply existing. Draco was going to be assigned a fellow witch or wizard to ensure he completed a months worth of "community service". If his assessor signed his clearance letter at the end of September, then he would be spared from going on trial for his War crimes.

Considering Draco was branded with the Dark Mark and had actually committed dastardly deeds, the Malfoy family had accepted the Minister's _kindness_. Although, Draco was fairly certain that it was Potter who now had the final say when it came to the fate of his family and him. Draco just knew that the noble arse felt like he owed them. Draco felt uncomfortable with receiving anything from Potter, the Weasel and Granger, least of all pity, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter. It was either Draco swallowed his pride or said goodbye to his future.

The media on the other hand was not very accepting of the Malfoys sentence. While they were told only that the Malfoys played instrumental roles in the demise of Voldemort, Potter had declined to detail the events surrounding what he and his faithful lackeys had been doing to bring down Voldemort in its entirety. Potter had divulged only the basics, refusing for the story to become a tale.

Draco sighed before throwing back the bundles of his bedding and getting out of his lush, four poster bed. He reached for his mother's shoulders and stopped her pacing as the sound of her heels clicking against his marble floors made his head hurt more.

"It's alright, mother, people aren't going to change Kingsley's mind."

Narcissa shook of her son's hold and glared at him. "Maybe not for our initial sentence, no. But I keep telling you that this reflects badly on your father, what – "

"It is _because_ of father that we are in this position." Draco snapped as he felt his temper flare. He was still very conflicted about his feelings towards his father and preferred not to dwell on them – for now at least.

"He is still your father, Draco." Draco heard the tremble in his mother's voice and sighed. She was not far from tears of late, and while he could be a complete prat to humans in general, including his father now, his mother was not one of them.

"I'll stop the meetings for a while then." Draco tried to appease Narcissa.

She nodded with a small watery smile and he made to excuse himself quickly so he didn't have to witness his mother's lack of composure when she spoke again. "I doubt you'll have much time to do otherwise, Draco. Tomorrow is the first of September and your first day of the Repentance Workshop begins." Draco turned around again, aghast at that bit of information. "This will help your public image much."

Draco groaned as he took the envelope his mother offered him and opened it carefully. His eyes widened as he read the official letter before it slipped form his fingers. He sat down on a comfy chaise nearby, one that his father had imported for him from Persia, his knees weak as he felt the distinct urge to vomit rise bitterly up his throat.

He watched as his mother bent to pick up the letter. He gave her a few seconds to read the parchment before he looked up at her. She had an unreadable expression on her face and Draco wondered if they could still buy their way out of this mess. Even if it was just to change his assessor.

"You are going to go through with the programme, aren't you, Draco?" Narcissa asked and her bottom lip trembled vulnerably again.

Draco sighed as he ran his hands down his face. If he was not going to do it for his father, or even for himself, then he would definitely partake in the bloody joke for his mother's sake. "I don't see any other way out."

He expected to see disgust at having to associate with a family his parents loathed from long before the War, or even pity for the position he found himself in, instead his mother stood taller, her shoulders straight again and a familiar gleam appeared in her blue eyes.

Had he just been played?

"Wonderful, the Weasleys are basically running the Ministry nowadays. Having one as your assessor could even sway the opinion of the public."

Draco groaned and resisted the urge to plant his fist into something as he let his heavy, pounding head fall into his hands. His mother looked as if she was planning a massive ball while he was going to be stuck with the littlest Weasley for an entire month. The blonde haired wizard idly pressed the bridge of his nose as a distant memory clawed through his nostrils making him shudder faintly. He could already smell the scent of vengeance surrounding him.

Only Draco knew that it was _he_ who was going to be the one paying up this time …

 **. . .**

"This is simply insane. I'm sorry, Minister, but I refuse to help him. He can be thrown into Azkaban, for all I care." Ginny ranted, sitting forward in the hard chair in Kingsley's office, her small hands clenched into fists on the large desk that separated her from the Minster for Magic.

Had it not been for the relationship between her family and Kingsley since before he became Minister, then she doubted she would have even gotten an appointment with him. However, long gone were the days when the Weasleys were unrecognisable, poor blood-traitors who people – like the Malfoys – looked down their snotty noses at. Now they were War heroes. Ginny mentally scoffed at the title. She did not think that doing what was right should be glorified. It was something that she had learned from Harry. You did good things because it was the right thing to do.

She didn't care how rich or renowned someone was. If he or she was an evil prat then they were snot beneath her cheap, scuffed pumps. Ginny Weasley always did what was right. Well, not always but at least she was not evil.

"Ginny." Kingsley spoke with much patience, making Ginny feel slightly abashed over her brazen behaviour.

The new Minster had much to do and she was sure listening to her petty griping about something she had volunteered for in the first place, did not rank high on his agenda. Also she did not want it to seem like she was using her last name to ask for favouritism, but she was desperate and needed his help.

"Yes, Minister?" Ginny queried sweetly but Kingsley knew her well enough to humour her faux innocence.

"Do you know why I chose you for young Mr Malfoy, Ginny?"

"Honestly, Minister, I think with all the stress you have been going through of late, you wanted to get a good laugh at my reaction. That or no one else wanted to be stuck with him for a month." Ginny said impassively and Kingsley's lips involuntarily twitched.

"No, Ginny. I chose you because I thought that if anyone deserved to be a deciding factor on Mr Malfoy's sentence, a Weasley having power over him would humble the young wizard into proving himself." Ginny scoffed as she doubted a Malfoy could ever be humbled, least of all by an abhorred Weasley, but she allowed Kingsley to continue out of respect for the elder wizard. "I also did it because I believed that out of everyone, a _Weasel_ had earned the opportunity to see a little Malfoy humiliation."

At the twinkle in Kingsley's eyes Ginny raised a neatly shaped auburn eyebrow at this. She could not deny that the idea was suddenly starting to hold some appeal for her. "Go on, Minster." Ginny said sweetly and Kingsley did smile this time.

"As Ron is busy with his Auror training," Ginny refused to feel bitter about this since wherever Harry went, Ron followed along, ever the faithful sidekick. "I thought who better than you to take over something that you were so excited in doing in the first place. I never thought you'd willingly give up or back down from a challenge, Ginny. I expected you to be a lot braver than this."

Ginny new she was being manipulated, the Minister was using mind games really, but damn it Kingsley was good at it. She could see now why he was voted into being temporary Minister and she had no doubt that it would become a permanent fixture too. And he was right. Evil schemes were already being concocted in her mind for vile punishments befitting Draco Malfoy. She was going to make him suffer. Oh, how she was going to enjoy this.

Ginny stood up serenely and extended a tiny hand to the Minister. "I appreciate the time and confidence, Minster. I won't let you down." With a mischievous grin Ginny made to leave.

"I know you won't." Kingsley gave her a conspiratorial smile and she headed out the ostentatious office. She would go visit her father first before she left the Ministry.

 **. . .**

Ginny found him at the bar in Enchanted. He was surrounded by a group of giggling witches in robes of various bright pinks. There was so much pink around that Ginny wondered whether they had just come from attending a "how to be an airhead" meeting. There must be a club because all those girly vibes made Ginny feel queasy.

She sat at a table in the corner, watching as Draco Malfoy ordered another drink and leaned in to whisper something into the ear of a dark haired witch near him. The girl simpered and giggled and Ginny's lips curled up in disgust. Did they really think that all that blonde hair and sharp features were good looking?

Ginny studied Malfoy objectively. His aristocratic face was regal and handsome, his frame tall and his shoulders broad. However it was the way he looked when he wasn't sneering or scowling – as she usually saw him doing – that made Ginny see some appeal to him. A confident smirk tugging at one corner of his lips accentuated his features. The way a lock of blonde hair fell on his forehead made him look almost human and not like an evil, cold blooded git.

However, there was something different about this Malfoy than she remembered from school. Ginny was not sure if it was the way his usually immaculate, dark robes looked slightly rumpled or the way his hands ran thorough his slightly longer, not slicked back hair frequently or the fact that he was drinking continuously made Ginny take a second look. It was almost as if he was lacking his air of superiority.

That was probably to be expected since his father was facing trial again and his mother and he, had only been exonerated with stringent conditions. Such restrictions could not be an easy life for the previously privileged Malfoys. It was difficult to buy your way out of situations when no one wanted your gold any longer. Respect from silly, giggling girls was probably all he could get now. He looked somewhat defeated and resigned. Ginny chastised herself. She would _not_ feel even an ounce of pity for a Malfoy. She refused to. He didn't deserve it.

Making up her mind Ginny downed the last of her Butterbeer and stood up. She made her way towards the girls clustered around him, as if he were a celebrity, but stilled when she heard the stupid witches speak.

"Oh, Draco, tell them that story about how You-Know-Who tortured you." Ginny heard one witch prattle on sympathetically.

"Yes, Draco, you must tell them how brave you were to fight for the good while playing on the bad side. If You-Know-Who had found out …." A blonde girl shuddered with an annoying simper as the others around her clucked sympathetically.

"Oh, you brave man." Another simpered.

Ginny felt her breakfast rise to her throat as she listened to the hogwash these brainless chits were spurning. Did they really believe that? Even _she_ had found it hard to believe that Draco Malfoy had suffered during the War, and Ginny had been armed with all the facts and Harry's testimonies as well. After all, Malfoy hadn't been so sure of his loyalties when he had been crying in a girl's lavatory and trying to kill Dumbledore. He had almost murdered others as he went along, including two of her brothers. And all these witches were surrounding him as if he was a hero? It was despicable and spurred Ginny's self righteous anger on all the more.

Taking in a deep breath to calm herself, before she hexed all the brainless broads surrounding Malfoy, a plan formed in her head. It was preposterous and probably wouldn't end well, but she needed to get rid of all the bimbos before they filled Malfoy's head with so much drivel that he actually started to believe them. Merlin knew at one point his arrogance had rivalled even that of Voldemort's. This could also be an added bonus in punishing Malfoy since he seemed to be revelling in the mindless attention. And anything he took pleasure in, Ginny would strip from him.

With a determined lift to her red head, Ginny elbowed her way towards Malfoy. "Darling, there you are." She cooed loudly as she stepped directly into Malfoy's line of vision.

Lifting her face to his Ginny pressed her cheek against Malfoy's on the pretext of kissing him in greeting while she was really whispering against the shell of his ear. All the while grateful she had managed to bamboozle him in to not pushing her aside and claiming disgust at being near a poor, blood-traitor.

"Be a good boy and get rid of the slags, Malfoy, so you can say a proper hello to your Repentance Workshop Assessor."


	2. Chapter 2

**Redeeming Draco Malfoy**

 _ **Chapter Two**_

 **SHE** agitatedly tapped the parchment on her lap with the end of her quill in undisguised irritation. Where the hell was he?

Ginny inconspicuously looked at the dainty, gold watch she had received when she had come of age only last month and she sucked on her upper teeth in irritation. Almost seven minutes late. Was he coming in at all? Ginny could not believe that Malfoy had the audacity to pull something like this at their first briefing for the Repentance Workshop. She wasn't surprised that Malfoy had no interest in having to go through with the programme, or that he hated her, but if he wouldn't even bother to try and prove himself, then how was she going to make his life miserable?

Ginny was trying her best to concentrate on Hermione's slightly nervous tone without meeting the eyes of anyone else present at the briefing. She was very aware of the fact that she was receiving many pitying glances from other assessors, all of whom Ginny knew and had went to school with. Clearly, they were all sympathetic to the fact that she had been landed with the infamous Draco Malfoy.

Then there were the snobbish looks from witches like Tracy Davis and Pansy Parkinson who seemed to wonder why the hell she had gotten Draco Malfoy in the first place. No doubt having already heard the rumours of her first encounter with Malfoy at Enchanted yesterday, and learning today that Ginny and Malfoy were being paired together, they probably believed the tall tale already. After all, every single person in the Magical community knew that the two families were sworn enemies and wouldn't be caught ten feet within each other, leave alone be seen intimately greeting one another and now working together. Ginny knew the jealous look well. It reminded her of the evil glares Romilda Vane and all the other twits had given her back at Hogwarts when Harry and she had dated in her fifth year. Therefore it wasn't difficult for the red head to ignore the blatant malice emanating from the few Slytherin witches partaking in the workshop.

Ginny gave a twisted grin as she drew a distorted head on one corner of her parchment which she was pretending to be scribbling notes upon. There was no point for annotations, Ginny had her schedule with her and she already had all her activities for Malfoy sanctioned by the Ministry. The meeting today was to ensure everyone knew how serious the Repentance Workshop was – hence having it at the Ministry of Magic in London – and for Hermione to satisfy her need for perfection and following the rules.

Therefore Ginny continued her artistry without really paying attention to her surroundings. She added a huge mole on a pointy nose and then drew a few strands of hair on an egg shaped head, as if the wizard in her drawing was going bald, before she put a little tag beneath it that said _"Malfoy"_. Then Ginny started to draw a little axe next to the head of her Malfoy. Ginny discreetly took out her wand and tapped it at the drawing.

She felt immensely pleased with herself when the axe started to move in a dangerous swing towards the drawing's head and Ginny's thumb sized Malfoy showed a very unpleasant face of fear at her. Ginny was so lost in her doodling that she had not realised that the room had gone eerily quite.

Ginny looked up just in time to see Malfoy strutting towards her, as if he did not have a care in the world, looking utterly non-apologetic. Ginny's cheeks reddened because his tardiness reflected badly on her. She would come across as an incompetent assessor, or showing favouritism because she was "dating" Malfoy, or worse, people would actually start pitying her openly. Hermione choked on her words mid-sentence but Draco just sauntered towards Ginny and sat down regally on the empty chair next to her.

Then he gave Hermione a haughty look that clearly said, well don't stop on my account, as if she had been waiting for his permission to speak again and Hermione's cheeks also reddened. The bushy haired witch coughed, cleared her throat and continued.

Ginny did not bother to concentrate on the reasons for why this project was so important, the rules and regulations of certain acts, failure to comply situations or the possible outcomes of the Repentance Workshop; blah, blah, blah – because her ears were too busy being clogged with angry steam.

"You're late." Ginny whispered as she leaned unobtrusively into Malfoy so no one else would hear them, thankful their wooden chairs had no armrests on them.

"Am I?" He actually sounded surprised and Ginny felt her ire rise. "No one else here seems to mind." He shrugged and it only served to incense Ginny more. She was positive the steam collecting in her ears would whistle out any moment now. Merlin knew her face was probably already as scarlet as the Hogwarts Express.

As if his infuriating attitude was not enough to set Ginny's teeth on edge, Malfoy reached out and slung his arm over her shoulder. Ginny immediately stiffened as Hermione choked over her words again when the older witch's eyes fell on Ginny and Malfoy. Ginny could feel every eye in the little room of the Ministry focused on them now.

Her cheeks were definitely an unattractive puce now and she wanted so badly to hex Malfoy until he was crying like a little girl for his mother. Thankfully Hermione continued, trying to refocus everyone's attention on herself. Ginny looked up to see that people were still staring at Malfoy and herself out of the corner of their eyes. Ginny would have rolled her own eyes if she hadn't been so angry.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" Ginny hissed through gritted teeth.

"Why I'm simply playing along, _darling_. You wouldn't want all these lovely people here to start thinking that you're a liar, now would you? After all, how could you have possibly been given the consent to be an assessor if you don't know what the truth is?"

Ginny groaned and sank lower into her chair. Malfoy sounded far too pleased with himself and she could tell he was enjoying her very public humiliation. He squeezed her shoulder, his long fingers making her skin crawl, as he drew her closer into his side and Ginny wished that there were armrests on their chairs now. Using his other hand he reached for the piece of parchment on her lap that she had been writing on. It read: _"Ways to Kill Malfoy"_ and continued for at least ten points on painful and violent methods of how she could slaughter him.

"Give that back." Ginny hissed and tried to take her scroll back from him but he held it out of her reach.

"How … _creative, sweetheart_." He said mockingly although Ginny could tell he was highly amused by her antics.

"Don't call me that." She took in a deep breath while trying to reign in her fast flying temper.

"Why not?" Draco asked and she turned around to glare at him.

He was looking straight at her and with his arm around her they were so very close to one another, their noses were almost touching. Close enough to see a sparkle of humour in his steel coloured eyes that made them look slightly lighter than usual. Near enough to inhale his expensive cologne that surprisingly didn't smell like anything that clogged her nasal passage and stuck in her throat, making her want to throw up.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Ginny whispered.

"Thoroughly." He agreed unabashedly and Ginny nodded, realising that riling her up was giving him great pleasure. Malfoy was doing to her what he had done to Ron for years. So Ginny took in a calming breath and mentally decided that she would not give him the satisfaction of getting under her skin. "Now, as much as I appreciate your plotting and scheming, I don't think the public will take too kindly to reading this list though. They might think you're simply allowing me to court you because of my wealth."

"What wealth?" Ginny asked smugly. "You do remember that it hasn't been decided on whether or not your family will receive everything back?"

"Ah, and that's why you influenced your close family and friends to allow me a chance to _redeem_ myself." Draco looked back at her, equally smug.

Ginny scoffed but she knew he was right. Rita Skeeter and other floozy reporters alike would love nothing more than a juicy story to drag the Weasley name into the mud now that her family was prominently rising up in the ranks of society, especially with their connection to Harry and Kingsley. Ginny regretted lying yesterday at Enchanted when she had told all those witches she was Draco Malfoy's girlfriend.

Only it had seemed like such a brilliant plan at the time. Ginny had thought that if she deterred some of the girls in trying to pursue Malfoy, then he would have more time to put into his tasks instead of hunting anything that smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. It would also break Malfoy away from his indulgent personal life to remind him of what he would have to give up on if he didn't pass her tests and was sent to Azkaban. Ginny had believed that the fear would make Malfoy take the workshop more seriously. Ginny was also honest enough with herself to admit that she had wanted him to learn how much power she had over him now. It had seemed like a great decision at the time, now though, having her own plan used against her, she realised that maybe she had not weighed all the pros and cons up in that split second it had taken her to come up with that idea.

It was one of those "Ginny things", as her brothers called it. The impulsive decision she just leaped into, head first, without thinking about the consequences her harebrained schemes would lead to. One month, Ginny reminded herself, just one month.

And soon she would have Malfoy right where she wanted him, having him do things that she couldn't wait to make him do. And the best part of it all, was that he did not even have a choice in the matter. It was brilliant.

"Err – Ginny?" Someone cleared their throat next to her and Ginny blinked, bringing into focus those same grey eyes she had been staring into while she had revelled in her wicked plans of retribution.

Only it hadn't been Malfoy who had spoken and still clearly amused with her, the blonde raised his eyebrows in a gesture that told her that someone was behind her. Ginny's bright brown eyes narrowed at him in a look that clearly said "we're not done here", but Malfoy just smirked at her in reply. The red head's nostrils flared before she looked up to see a frowning Hermione standing next to her. Apparently the meeting was over and people were already milling about all around them. Some standing around and waiting to converse with others they knew while others left hurriedly.

"Granger." Draco nodded stiffly and Ginny could tell that there was too much animosity there to ever expect more than a terse greeting between them. Then he turned towards Ginny and she lifted an auburn eyebrow at him. "I'll be talking to Nott and Goyle while you finish up here." He said it like he was allowing her to talk to Hermione, as if he was accepting it and giving her permission to do so, as if she had asked him for a moment with her friend. Ginny felt the urge to stomp her foot down like a petulant child and lash out at him, instead she just nodded.

"Darling." He added as he took his leave and Ginny glared at him. He had voiced the endearment on purpose and she could feel Hermione's eyes boring into her head. His smirk – the trademark one that Ginny was fast coming to loathe – clearly said, "Have fun explaining your way out of that one, _darling_."

Then he lifted his hand and ran the back of his fingers down her arm. It was almost like a brand, a possessive Malfoy touch used to show ownership, and Ginny looked at her skin, almost expecting to see a Malfoy insignia or something magically appear there. Nothing did however and she exhaled a breath she had no idea she had been holding. Ginny would need to scrub that area of skin for an extra hour tonight.

"What the hell is going on here?" Hermione demanded, sounding more bewildered than upset.

Ginny took that as a very good sign and shook herself from her reverie. Although at the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder how difficult it would be to convince the rest of her family on her reasons. She grabbed Hermione's arm and casually drew her friend away from prying eyes and the eavesdropping ears of other witches and wizards all around them.

"I lied about being Malfoy's girlfriend because it made sense at the time." Ginny said simply.

Hermione frowned so deeply Ginny wondered if her forehead would ever return to its normal flawlessness. "What time, Ginny? And when would a Weasley claiming to be the girlfriend of the charged-Death Eater-can't-keep-one-witch-at-a-time-pale-faced-ferret ever make sense?"

Ginny just tilted her head to the side as she looked at Hermione in bafflement. She had always wondered how the other witch managed to spew out such tripe – err insight – in one breath without turning blue in the face, but had learned long ago that she would never fully understand Hermione. And that was okay, because Hermione had many other admirable qualities that Ginny had come to love.

"Hermione, I suspect that Malfoy is going to give me a bloody hard time for the things I have planned on him doing. I didn't want the added bonus of him going off on his regular sprees with witches every night and showing up late, or worse hung-over, the next day and unable to do what he needs to do in order to pass his assignments."

There was some truth to her words and if it did help to make Malfoy's life a little more difficult as well, then that was just an added bonus for her. Deep down, Ginny felt that he deserved to rot in Azkaban for all that he had done. Just because his mother and he had each made one decision – given it had been major decisions that could have sent the outcome of the War in Voldemort's favour – did not change the years of bad things he had done. She wanted to see him punished but she knew she had to be objective about his case as well. Allowing her hatred to come off too strongly would only make Ginny's actions questionable and Hermione was too decent of a witch with a very narrow mindset when it came to doing the right thing.

While Kingsley was of the opinion that Ginny, more than anyone else, deserved to play with Malfoy before she saved or damned him, she knew that revenge was not the aim of the Repentance Workshop. That however, did not mean that she was not going to make Malfoy's life for the next thirty days a living nightmare – he deserved to pay after all. And if he managed to survive _her_ , then only would he be worthy to be given a chance to start afresh, because in Ginny's opinion, Malfoy should not be alive when people who deserved to be, were dead. Ginny inhaled deeply not wanting to go down that road.

"Do you even want him to be redeemed?" Hermione asked astutely after watching the red head's expressive face.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Hermione. Just as we both know that in the end, there is a fine line between bad and evil, which is why you came up with this brilliant idea in the first place. So at the end of the day, this is a fair chance to give them what they deserve, on both ends, don't you think?"

Ginny watched Hermione mull her words over before the brunette spoke again. "What does Harry think about this?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione, I'm seventeen not twelve. Honestly though, I think he would approve. This is a great way to stick it to Malfoy within good reason, but still see if he's worthy to be given a second chance. Tell me I'm wrong."

"I can't. You're right." Hermione sighed. "And if it wasn't for Auror training I have no doubt that Ron would have been jumping over fully grown trolls for this chance." She admitted. "And if that were the case them I might have actually pitied Malfoy for once." Hermione said with a fond smile for Ron.

Ginny nodded with a small grin of her own. "Ron deserves it much more than I do. I personally wish I had this opportunity with Malfoy Senior, but the son will have to do." Ginny smiled wickedly and Hermione rolled back her eyes.

"Yes, well just be careful, all right. I still don't trust him and I wouldn't want him to start thinking that he could play games with you too."

Ginny nodded and gave Hermione a quick hug, promising not to go overboard with her plans for Malfoy. "Don't worry, Hermione, I can handle Draco Malfoy."

 **. . .**

"Are you still planning on how best to carry out that list of yours?" Draco whispered close to Weasley's ear and he watched her small shoulders stiffen.

Pleased with himself for making her uncomfortable he sat down directly opposite of her and placed a goblet of butterbear before her. He saw surprise flicker in her bright brown eyes while he sipped his own drink and she lifted one eyebrow at him, her quill poised over her parchment. Did Weasley think he was a complete Neanderthal?

"Have you poisoned it?" She motioned her red head towards the butterbear.

"You'll have to try it for yourself and see." He smirked at her even though he felt a tinge of irritation at her comment, more so when she pushed the goblet away with the back of her hand. "Oh really, Weasley? It was a peace offering, all right. If we're going to be working together we might as well try and be civil to one another."

Draco watched as she stopped writing, contemplating something before she finally looked up at him. Her eyes were full of suspicion and not an ounce of trust in it. He understood really, she shouldn't trust him. She had no reason to after all that he had said and done. If Draco hadn't done all of those stupid things then he definitely wouldn't be in the position he was in now. Like some common louse, subjected to being assessed for good behaviour by someone younger than him. It made him sound so pathetic.

He was unhappy about getting landed with the little Weasel but he didn't believe for a second that it was a coincidence. He knew how well the Weasley's were connected to Shaklebolt, old Order members who had fought side by side in the War. However, Draco had just learned how to appreciate what he had because the more he thought about it the more he realised how much worse it could have been.

He could have ended up with Ron Weasley and Draco could only guess at how much that pasty oaf would have loved to humiliate him. Draco knew it would have been unbearable for him. While he was not underestimating the girl Weasley's contempt for him and prowess to punish him – as he knew she was more skilled and powerful than her brother was – Draco assumed the little damage he had done to her personally in Hogwarts didn't count for much and that whatever grievances she had towards him were based by association and on principle alone.

Therefore, she was more susceptible to feeling empathy for him, coupled with the fact that she was a witch – warm and fuzzy was part of her genetical design – he was more likely to pass the blasted workshop with her, than with any other of those idiots he had seen at that meeting today.

This theory was what gave Draco a glimmer of hope on passing the darn workshop. After speaking to his mother about this and telling her exactly how Weasley had found him – alright so it was more griping and cursing that involved "the blasted woman" and "the audacity of that silly witch" or "how dare she" – his mother's strategy was to genuinely pursue a relationship with Weasley. That suggestion had been enough to immediately sober Draco of his anger.

" _Oh, not anything permanent, Draco. Just for a couple of months, maybe, a year at most, until all this hubbub dies down. You can be very charming when you want to be, son, and she will be hard pressed not to deem you worthy of a second chance. It will be so good for your social status as well and in turn reflect well on your parents. She could get you invited … "_

Draco had tuned out his mother by then but her ramblings had only continued and with it her excitement. Draco looked over at Weasley. He remembered how Pansy had mentioned that a load of wizards back at Hogwarts had fancied her, even a fellow Slytherin Blaise Zabini. Draco deemed her acceptable. It was not that she was unattractive, her confidence in her own skin made her appealing, but she was so … so _forceful_. He enjoyed confident witches, but Ginny Weasley was a bit _too_ brash for his liking.

She cussed and grit her teeth and bristled and he had no intention of pursuing cacti when anyone who knew him would immediately see that she was not his type. Besides, being a Malfoy and a Weasley, they simply grated on each others nerves when together.

He didn't have a doubt in his mind that the public would suppose that he was in a relationship with Weasley because of her last name and more importantly who she was connected to and to Draco, that was all that mattered. Everyone believed him to be an opportunist, just like his dear ol' dad and Draco had no issues with that general consensus. He was who he was after all, and there were worst things that he had been referred to as of late rather than a manipulative Slytherin.

Draco did not genuinely need to start a relationship for society now as his mother had recommended. After today, the wizarding community would swallow the hogwash whole. A casual touch here, a telling whisper there, was all easily manageable during the time they spent together for the workshop. This was fortunate for Draco because pretending was something that he was rather good at and he did not have to spend any more time with Weasley than was necessary.

Going to events with her, enduring her presence for long periods of time while pretending he actually enjoyed it, acting as if he liked the company she kept … snogging her publicly. That was just something that Draco had no intention of doing. Although, he did enjoy watching Weasley squirm like she had at their meeting today. She despised him and enjoyed – not – pretending to be his girlfriend just as much as he did, if not more so.

Draco knew she thought by lying yesterday that she had an upper hand on him and stood to make his life more difficult by cutting of his social life and … _recreational_ activities, but Draco had realised that while he was keeping everyone happy in his life – which was a mission nowadays – he could use this opportunity to get back at Weasley for whatever torment she was going to put him through.

Draco internally sighed. All he had to do was keep telling himself that it was either that or Azkaban. In the end, he really didn't have a choice. While a year ago he might have been angry about his situation or demanded his father fix this, Draco reminded himself that it _was_ his father who had brought this upon him and the family. It was _because_ of his father that he was where he was today and in reality Draco was tired.

He was tired of fighting when he was so clearly on the wrong side. Draco was weary of holding onto the old prejudices that landed his father and him in such a dastardly position and he was ready to let go. Draco could not deny that he still had some … _qualms_ about the mixture of pure-blood and Muggle-borns, but that did not make him want to pledge his allegiance to a crazy murderer again.

"Let's get one thing straight here, Malfoy …" He realised Weasley was speaking to him and Draco blinked to focus on her and concentrate on her words. "You work _for_ me. We do not work together."

Her venomous words did not sit well with him but he was in no place to argue so Draco simply offered her a sneer he reserved specifically for vermin. She however was not intimidated by him in the least. Weasley snorted before gathering up her quills, ink and parchment.

Then she bent down to scribble something on a piece of parchment and Draco was drawn to the locks of fiery red hair falling around her face, her expression annoyed. Weasley slid it towards him with her slender fingers and unkempt nails, which showed she did much work with her hands.

"Come to this place at seven tomorrow morning – sharp. If you're late, Malfoy, I promise I will intensify your first trial." She advised warningly but Draco looked blankly back at her. He refused to let her daunt him.

She narrowed her eyes at him, a glassy brown gaze that sparked like flames when she was determined or angry. Then she removed her hand from the address and turned to walk away from him, full hips swaying slightly. Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before he picked up the piece of parchment from the table.

Tomorrow it would begin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Redeeming Draco Malfoy**

 _ **Chapter Three**_

 **DRACO** landed on the outskirts of the bustling marketplace with something close to fear in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't the type of panic that made you scared of being attacked or unwelcomed – because the market place looked packed with harmless, common Muggles – but a sense of dread for what was to come, because he knew whatever it was, it would most certainly not bode well for him.

He didn't have a clue as to what Weasley had planned out for his first task and Draco honestly wished he didn't need to find out. He stood up straighter and adjusted the front of his dark robes. He knew his hair was slightly out of place but he could not bring himself to care. It was not like he was associating with these people on a social level.

Draco was also already tired. He hadn't had much sleep the night before, because every time he had closed his eyes he had been haunted with degrading sights that he prayed he never had to live a day of. Naturally that meant when he finally did manage to fall asleep – he had over slept.

This had been made worse by his mother choosing to wake him up. His mother, who had insistently tried to dress him up, who had picked out everything for him – including his underwear. She hadn't laid out that particular article of clothing for Draco since he had been four years old. Being nervous hadn't been helped by the charred bacon and mushy eggs, with a side of rock hard toast he had nibbled on at breakfast. It was miserable without house elves and the food felt like lead settling into his stomach for the day. It definitely had not been the ideal start. Draco made an unintelligible sound in frustration.

"You sound like a dying dog." Draco turned around like a brandished whip and he was startled to see Weasley standing against a tree behind him, watching him intently. "Although, at least dogs are known to be loyal creatures."

Draco felt his cheeks pinken for the second time that morning and he didn't like it at all. He made a mental to purchase a few extra bottles of Firewhisky for the next thirty days. It would come in handy after every night of dealing with his mother and Weasley in tandem.

"How long have you been standing there?" Draco questioned, choosing to ignore her insults.

"Long enough." Draco was about to snarl at her shrug but wasn't given the chance.

Weasley briskly stepped towards him and put her hand on his. The action startled Draco so much that he immediately reared back. Draco could swear her touch felt like a hot iron against his skin. Her grip was surprisingly firm and strong. Yet her fingers were slender and soft around his wrist. Draco could not help but wonder if everything about this girl was contradicting. He made to shake off her hold on him in disgust, but her grip only tightened and she glared at him.

"You'd better relax and remain still, unless you're looking to lose a limb, in which case I would be happy to oblige." Her voice was cold and taunting and this time he did sneer down at her successfully. Only his menacing expression failed to have any affect on her. Weasley simply rolled her big, brown eyes at him.

Draco felt the familiar sensation of being sucked through a tube, only it felt ten times worse because he hadn't been the one doing the apparating. He stumbled forward slightly the moment his feet touched solid ground, his tall back hunching forward. When he straightened himself and took in a calming breath, he found Weasley standing steadily before him and looking him over. That really annoyed him.

"You should never disapparate with another human, you're terrible at it." He reprimanded cruelly with an angry snarl. She was no doubt the most frustrating witch he had ever met before.

"Losing any part of your vile, vain, vicious self would be an improvement, Malfoy. Believe me." She replied unkindly.

"And all of you being lost would be a blessing in disguise." Draco glowered, baring his perfectly white teeth down at her in an intimidating snarl, but she was biting her lower lip and staring at him with such a contemplative look that Draco felt – and he would never, ever admit this out loud – uncomfortable under her heavy scrutiny.

So he looked around his surroundings, more to avoid her keen gaze than from any interest in sightseeing. Draco's eyes widened. He took in the yellow hills, the smell of country air and the tall, crooked building in the distance with something worse than fear. He turned wide grey eyes on Weasley.

"Where are we?" He queried with shock. Although the sinking feeling in the pit of his belly and the wicked look on her heart shaped face told Draco that he knew exactly where they were.

Her lips curved into an impish smile. Excitement and mischief danced in her bright brown eyes, making them sparkle and the tiny freckles dotting her cheeks became more pronounced. In that moment she could have been mistaken for enticing, but Draco knew better. She was plotting his downfall and all he could find her was ghastly. So he scowled at her instead.

"I thought it would be a wonderful place to start. I remember how you've always _pitied_ us for being poor, so I decided what better way to show how much you've … _changed,_ by helping us underprivileged people." Her hands were on her full hips now, one foot tapping patiently as she waited for a response from him.

Draco looked at her in utter disbelief. He felt himself break out in a cold sweat and he realised then that wearing formal robes hadn't been such a great idea after all. It seemed like Weasley could see straight through him and her smile didn't waver for a moment, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

Then she trudged down the hill and Draco knew he had no choice but to follow. Her hips swayed like the corn fields in the wind, fluidly and gracefully. Her faded Muggle jeans clung to her well rounded figure and the simple knitted jersey she wore told him that she was completely comfortable in her own skin.

That made Draco feel all the more uncomfortable and agitated in his own clothing. He had never felt that way before, not in a tailor made robe worth five hundred galleons, woven from the finest of silk in the world and he realised then how low he had sunk. The world he had known had crumbled all around him and Draco would never be able to climb out of the slump he was being forced to stay in with his old thoughts at hand.

Potter had started a revolution, one that was completely opposite to what the Dark Lord had tried to accomplish, and while Draco had been quickly disillusioned by what being a Death Eater had entailed, he wasn't prepared for what it meant to be an unwilling part of the other side as well.

He was struggling, drowning and he couldn't see a way out but to accept what he was given for now. Yet a part of him simply wanted to lie down and give up. He wanted to die in his silk robes with the comfort of the only things that he had ever known, than to actually move forward and face what was to come. Because if Draco was being honest with himself, he was beyond afraid of this new world he felt like he did not belong in.

He was petrified that he didn't have the strength to win against the odds which were currently not in his favour. He was terrified that maybe this workshop would prove what all his other endeavours had proved. That Draco was a failure. That even though he had always preferred to sit on the fences and simply lean on the winning side when it suited him, because no one liked to feel superior more than him, he didn't have the comfort of that luxury anymore.

There was no way Draco was feeling superior any longer and it scared him. He no longer had the freedom of choice and the bleak prospects of his future frightened him. It was easier to pretend that he was still in control of his own life sometimes, than to actually try and be.

When they reached the bottom of the hill Draco almost expected a bunch of red heads to be waiting outside for him with clubs and pitchforks in hand. However, only the warm breeze and the scents of grass welcomed him. The walk down had done him some good. He always liked to fly or set sail when he needed his mind cleared, as it normally sent some oxygen to his brain. He was glad that Weasley hadn't spoken to him on the trek down or he would have definitely pissed her off by not paying attention to her. Draco peered at her through lowered eyelashes and it was difficult waiting for her instructions when he was the one used to giving it instead. So he bit his tongue and stared with expert nonchalance at Weasley.

A slight breeze blew tendrils of thick, red hair across her face and she pulled them down with her nimble fingers. The sun above them shone on her fiery head so he could make out shades of gold in her tresses. She gave the impression of an angel with a halo over her head, but then she smiled and Draco repressed the urge to shiver.

That smile was almost demonic. He could see the punishment awaiting him behind the falsity of her lush lips curved in what she wanted to be mistaken as a smile. In reality it was impious excitement over his upcoming castigation.

"This way." She told him, bending sardonically like a house elf. He grit his teeth and followed her behind the tall, crooked building he was sure was her home. He immediately formed an intense dislike for the muddy rubber boots lined outside, with the rusty, broken cauldrons standing by the door. Draco especially didn't like the snorting of pigs he heard near him or the cackling of chicken running around.

They walked behind the slanting tower and he looked back just to make certain that the building wouldn't come crashing down on him or that a horde of angry Weasleys weren't running after him when his back was turned. He inwardly grimaced at his line of thought but fear did strange things to the mind.

When he looked in front again he noticed that Weasley had stopped walking and was waiting for him near a huge, muddy and fly surrounded pigsty. Draco's mind immediately started to conjure up images even more terrible than his most gruesome nightmares had been last night. He gulped but his tongue felt thick and parched and he was afraid if he opened his mouth he would sound like a croaking frog.

So Draco decided to keep silent and await Weasley's instructions. He didn't have to wait long because there was fire in her eyes, burning with anticipation and his stomach churned. His chest ached and he thought he was going to be sick.

"Considering you used to express such … _interest_ in poor wizarding kind and Muggles, you will be given chores during the course of the week that you must do without magic." Her tone was suddenly businesslike but it failed to hide the glee dripping from each word.

Draco could already feel his burned breakfast trying to make an appearance and he wanted to run as far away as he could from the petite demon before him. "And what, pray tell, is my first order of duty?" He was grateful that his voice had not wavered in the face of fear.

"Your first task is to clean this pigsty. We'll move on from there afterwards." Weasley told him in a sickly sweet way that immediately made him want to hunch over and hurl. He had asked because he had hoped with all his heart, for the sake of his sanity really, that his first task would have nothing to do with the disgusting pigpen before him.

"No." Draco said simply.

After all, how could he lower himself to cleaning a pigsty? With nothing but his bare hands, no magic allowed. It was cruel and twisted and he could not believe that the Ministry would sanction such a filthy and degrading task for a Malfoy heir. However, if he expected Weasley to be surprised or even upset by his refusal, he was disappointed. On the contrary she looked more pleased by his response than anything else.

She took a step towards him and nodded solemnly before she looked up at him. She was short, probably only reaching his chest but when she raised those fierce brown eyes on him, Draco felt slightly smaller, unimportant and dirty.

"So you refuse to complete this task then?" She asked calmly, too calmly for Draco's liking. At his stubborn nod of agreement she also bobbed her head before speaking. "Go then."

Draco's legs made to move. After all this was what he had wanted, to flee and never return. He no longer cared if he didn't receive the rest of his gold or was sentenced to imprisonment in Azkaban. Nothing was worth playing around in pig muck all day. Draco would simply go to another country, far, far away from Britain. There he could solve Muggle problems with magic and earn money for himself.

Then it hit him. The Ministry would never allow him to keep his wand. Draco would be a fugitive, a convict and he would never be able to return home again. He would also, most likely, never see his mother again and would have to abandon her to fend for herself during one of their toughest times yet.

Draco would always have to change locations, he could never settle down in one place and he would have to change himself too. He would have to take on a new name and quite possibly even a new look. Live as someone else for a while, probably even as a Muggle for some time. Draco winced at all the disadvantages of his bright idea. He didn't want to be someone else. Then again, at that point in time, he really didn't want to be himself either.

"Wait, what?" Draco frowned down at Weasley.

"You heard me." She said simply. "Leave. Isn't that what you want?" Her voice was condescending and mocking but Draco couldn't believe she was telling him he could go. "This is what you're best at doing right? Stirring up trouble, making sure you stick your pointed nose where it doesn't belong and then fleeing. You're a weak willed coward."

Her words were like ice flooding through his veins. Every insult made him immobile and paralysed him with some odd sensation that he couldn't identify. She spoke nothing but the truth, all the things she had just said to him was everything Draco had only moments ago told himself, but she made it sound so much worse. Like a crime punishable by death and he knew then that _that_ was what she wanted.

Weasley wanted his life in return for the childish crimes he had performed because he had affected her life. She wanted him to rot away in Azkaban. The red head didn't want him in this workshop and she certainly didn't want him on her land, outside her house or even in her pigsty. Weasley's opinion of him was lower than pig shite and she was going to punish him for his actions, one way or another.

The nerve above Draco's lips twitched as he gritted his teeth. He wanted to be so angry at her for being assigned his case, but he knew in the end that he had brought this upon himself. He should never have picked on any of her family members all those years at Hogwarts. If he hadn't, she would most likely not be his assessor today and out for his blood.

He could see hate flaring in her eyes and he knew that he couldn't just walk away. The moment he did that, he would immediately be sent to trial and no doubt lose the opportunity at a second chance at life. Even if Draco did serve a sentence in Azkaban, his life would never be the same again. He would miss out on years of his youth, he would end up bitter and regretful and everyone would see him as an evil git rather than a reformed, prejudiced pureblood who had simply made some bad choices.

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that the Ministry would sign off on something so inhumane?" Draco asked sceptically, deciding to change tact.

It was almost heart wrenching to see her smile smugly up at him. "I thought you might ask that." She said as she immediately pulled out a scroll from her jean pocket and showed it to him. Then her face turned icy, her eyes sharp and piercing. "Inhumane is trying to take someone's life, cursing and poisoning without feeling the slightest bit of – "

"You don't know what I felt." Draco snarled viciously as he stepped closer towards Weasley.

"Oh yeah, crying to a ghost over failing to – "

"Shut it!" Draco snapped.

He hadn't realised that he had stepped so close to Weasley that he had grabbed onto her wrist in his rage until she looked down pointedly. Draco felt her delicate bones beneath his large hand and he knew it would be so easy to twist and break her with his strength. He would have liked nothing better than to leave her feeling helpless and see how she handled herself then. Instead of fear though, Draco only saw triumph in Weasley's bold eyes and he knew that she had made her point.

Draco jerked away from her as if she had slapped him and he ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. She was playing with him, Weasley was. She was smart enough to know exactly which buttons of his to push and she was bloody hell enjoying it too. Darn it, he despised her.

Desperate to look anywhere else but at Weasley, Draco browsed through the official Ministry approved list with all her activates planned out for him. Draco threw it back at her weakly and he turned away from her. He felt oddly broken and defeated. He shamefully felt the urge to cry but he held on to his anger instead. He would direct every ounce of his resentment at Weasley.

 **. . .**

Ginny waited as Malfoy ran a hand through his white blonde hair. In the sun it was like fine silk shining around him. His broad shoulders were stiff but he stood tall even in his time of desperation. Ginny wanted so badly for him to give up. It would save her the misery from having to look at him roaming around freely and alive for an entire month. She would sleep easier knowing he was locked up, far way in Azkaban. Although the downside of that meant she wouldn't get to see Malfoy's humiliation.

Ginny thought she had had him when he had snapped at her just now, grabbing onto her hand in a stroke of violence, but what surprised her most was how he had held back. Even though she could have easily cursed him if he had tried to harm her in any way, he was still physically stronger than her. Yet Malfoy had not tried to overpower her. His eyes had not reflected true malevolence at her. Hatred: yes, anger: yes but no violence. Maybe he really couldn't stomach advertently and directly hurting someone after all.

Then Ginny reminded herself that inadvertently hurting people was not an excuse and even if his eyes showed regret, she couldn't be sure as to what exactly he was sorry for. Hurting people or having to face the consequences for it. Therefore she stomped down harshly on any understanding the empathic side of her brain was unwittingly providing in Malfoy's defence.

"I thought we were going to be visiting orphanages or War relief centres or things like that." He complained at her while his back was turned.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you had such an interest in children, but I'll consider it."

She waited while he looked over at the heap of mess and mud in the pigsty, then she walked forward to stand beside him. He swallowed deeply and his adam's apple moved in desperation. He looked towards her, squaring his broad shoulders visibly. His eyes turned icy cold, shinning like gun metal and Ginny almost shivered under his gaze. When he looked down at her with all the confidence and superiority that had been bred into him since birth, it was so easy to feel intimidated by him again. However she refused to be cowed from her plans.

"What do I do?" He asked again with a deceivingly calm voice, his eyes never leaving hers as if silently telling her to change her mind or promising retribution for her actions if she didn't.

"Clean the entire pigsty." Ginny instructed.

Malfoy was unable to hide his initial flinch before her eyes saw it but then he nodded and the look was gone. Cold indifference was donned like a protective mask and Ginny could see him grit his teeth. Then he walked away from her. His shoulders were rigid and his gait wasn't as easy as it had been yesterday, but Ginny was surprised. Completely disbelieving that Malfoy of all people would actually be walking towards a pigsty.

He carefully removed his dark, dress robes and folded it neatly, leaving it on a patch of grass before entering the pigsty. His Italian shoes squelched in the mud but he paid it no heed.

He picked up a spade in hand and began to clear up the filthy area around him. The stench bothered Ginny but she had refused to use a spell to counteract the smell because she wanted Malfoy to have mud in his perfect blonde hair after today. She wanted his skin to have the foul odour he accused her family of having and she wanted to witness it happen.

Yet when he walked into the pen and worked with a calm dignity and agility, not a word muttered from his mouth, even with flies surrounding him – that was what truly impressed Ginny. She had expected him to curse her, hell even threaten her, but nothing of the sort had happened. He had fussed over his task at first and she couldn't blame him because he had the right to do so, this was utterly personal after all, but then he had refused to give her the satisfaction of quitting the workshop and handing her what she really wanted. Draco Malfoy in Azkaban.

He decided to stand and fight and there was nothing weak about that. Ginny couldn't help but feel some empathy for him in that moment. She sat watching him but he refused to look at her. Soon the sun was nearing its highest peak but he kept working, having established a pattern and momentum by now.

He rolled up the sleeves of his once pristine white shirt and Ginny noticed that Malfoy's forearms were strong; his blue blooded veins pulsed below his pale skin with every dig and heave. His chest rippled clearly beneath the thin cotton of his expensive shirt and she idly wondered when the skinny git she had loathed at eleven had transformed into a lanky adult she was currently noticing. But then, of course he had grown up, the months after the War had returned the lost flesh onto his bones. At eighteen he was a man now. And Ginny couldn't help but think that he was definitely handling his current situation like one.

She realised then that she couldn't becompletely _inhumane_ to him – well not all that much at least – so she quickly went inside to grab a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice for him. She was glad with avoiding her mother inside the house since Mrs Weasley had been very unhappy about Ginny's plans for the youngest Malfoy and had said things along the lines of "I thought I raised you better."

The Weasley matriarch disliked the Malfoys just as much as anyone had a right to, but she wasn't all that pleased to know that Ginny had lied about dating Malfoy and then taken it upon herself to "torture" him. Mrs Weasley had expressed deep concern as to whether this workshop would make Ginny horrible as it made Malfoy better.

At the time Ginny had rolled her eyes at Mrs Weasley's dramatic diatribe, but at the moment she was wondering if maybe there was some truth to her mother's words. At the time George had laughed at her landing Malfoy, and since it was the first time George had really laughed in a long while, Ginny had thought that that alone was worth her mother's chastisement. Her father had simply looked contemplative before softly voicing his dislike for the Malfoys. Although, one of the many wonderful traits of Arthur Weasley, was his ability to allow his children to make their own mistakes and learn from them, simply promising to be there for them when things didn't work out as they wished it to. In hindsight though, Ginny could not help but wonder if maybe she had taken her hatred for Malfoy too far.

Ginny took the tray outside and was about to call for Malfoy to take a break when loud laughter made her look up. Ginny placed the tray down on the chair she had been sitting on and turned at the sight of Harry and Ron making their way down the hill. Their eyes were focused on Malfoy with glee and Ginny noticed that the blonde's cheeks were pink and he looked distinctly uncomfortable. Then she thought of all the things he had done to her family and her resolve strengthened. She reminded herself that whatever he had coming, he deserved.

"Harry, tell me I'm not going blind." Ron and Harry only had eyes for Malfoy and hadn't focused on her yet. She couldn't blame them but she did feel the old tinge of annoyance at it. They were lapping up the scene that greeted them with unreserved relish.

"I wear glasses, Ron, and if you're seeing Malfoy in your back yard cleaning a pigsty then you're not going blind, mate."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and grinned. Then they turned towards her. "It's good to see you boys." Ginny said sincerely, looking over them to see if their Auror training had made any difference to their outward appearance.

They weren't as scrawny as they had been but Ginny could see that there had been more emotional changes than physical ones. A grim determination combined with a steely resolve lurked behind their good natured demeanour. Of course that could also be a result of the months they had spent on the run while chasing Horcruxes and fighting in a war. Something that had wrought drastic, unavoidable changes to all of them and for the first time Ginny didn't blame her mother for trying to hold onto their innocence after they had shed them.

Ron grinned at her before giving her a one armed hug. Then she turned to Harry and he pulled out something from his pocket before he approached her stiff posture. He gave her such a hopeful look with his mesmerising green eyes that she felt all the bitterness at him leaving straight after the War seep away from her.

"I missed you, Gin'." He said softly and Ginny melted as she stepped forward and took the box from him. Who could ever stay angry at sweet, noble Harry Potter?

"What's in the box?" She questioned with narrowed eyes.

"You're favourite chocolates of course." He said and she laughed, leaning in to him. He gave her a chaste peck on the cheek and Ginny hugged him tightly.

"I missed you too." She said softly and she realised that she meant it. At that very moment there was a loud splash as a large dollop of mud landed out the wooden pen and spattered near their feet. Ginny and Harry groused and stepped back from the offending manure.

"Hey, watch where you're shovelling that muck, Malfoy." Ron said furiously, looking down to ensure he hadn't been messed with any.

"Or we might not hire you permanently." Harry added and he and Ron laughed jovially at his joke.

Ginny felt somewhat uncomfortable as she saw Malfoy's fingers tighten around the handle of his spade. For some reason seeing Harry and Ron laughing at Malfoy wasn't as fun to watch as she had expected it to be. She thought she would have felt justified, happy and would have gloated at Malfoy's expense, but she felt nothing of the sort.

It was an odd feeling, especially since she had been salivating over Malfoy's humiliation for days now, but now that it was happening, she did not feel as chuffed with herself as she expected to be. Her contradicting emotions made no sense to her and she wondered if maybe it was simply her annoyance over Harry and Ron arriving just to witness Malfoy's humiliation that made her feel so conflicted. Clearly they had caught wind of the situation from Hermione because Ginny had not told them about Malfoy. The thought irked Ginny because the two boys had not thought twice about leaving everyone behind for Auror training, but could make a special visit for Malfoy, after months of being gone.

"All right you two, why don't you go inside and get something to eat. Mum will be feeding you before you even sit down." Ginny suggested and was pleased to see Harry focus his attention back onto her.

"Yeah, sounds great." Harry said happily, walking past her and squeezing her shoulder affectionately, but she noticed Ron hadn't moved from his spot.

Ron waved his hand for Harry to go on without him, eyes still fixed on Malfoy. It was as if Ron was admiring Malfoy. Not for the way the sweaty and toned wizard looked with dirt on his sharp cheekbones or his mused hair falling around his angled face, but because he was clearly at a disadvantage shovelling shite on Weasley territory.

Malfoy though seemed strong and overbearing, standing tall and poised, hands gripping the spade confidently, but it was obvious that circumstances had left him chipped and cracked at the same time. That was possibly what made Ron think that one more hit could break Malfoy to pieces. However the more Ginny stared at Malfoy, she knew that that assessment wasn't right. Malfoy was more defined than she thought, as if everything he had been through etched him with another line of characterisation that strengthened him instead of weakened him. Ginny was about to speak when Ron opened his mouth.

"I never thought I would see the day, Malfoy." Ron said in a condescending tone and Ginny couldn't believe that Malfoy was remaining stoically silent.

He kept shovelling but he did look up at Ron and Ginny's eyes narrowed. His look was completely patronising and haughty and even inside a pigsty, with mud on his face, he could look down his nose at Ron. Ginny marvelled at that while Ron seethed at it.

"I definitely think I'm going to take a picture of this moment." Ron's voice was thick with bitterness. "Use it to remind myself during some tough times that even though I was poorer than you were, I was still a better person. And I'm a hero now, while this is where the bad ones end up." Ginny's throat clogged with emotion for her brother.

Ron was justified.

"You know, I actually think you would have had it easier with me. Since I think I would have just made you battle for your life every single day of the month, to make you fear for your existence, as I did when we were trying to defeat You-Know-Who while you were cosying up to him in your big, black mansion."

Ginny didn't believe that that was quite true. She had heard that Malfoy hadn't been capable of going through with some of the things that Voldemort had tasked him with, and had been quickly disillusioned by the Death Eater lifestyle, and she was inclined to believe it after today. That was also one of the reasons he had been allowed a chance at redemption. There was also a haunted look that passed through Malfoy's silver eyes at Ron's words but he looked down then and went back to his work, as if bored with her brother already. Ginny couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of admiration for how hard he must have been fighting with himself to keep his mouth closed. It wasn't easy to ignore Ron, she knew. It was completely unlike Malfoy to do so too, but then again, it was completely like him to run and hide when he was at a disadvantage as well.

"Ginny really does know how to make a wizard suffer, doesn't she? And you know, I'm so glad she was given the opportunity to do this because what she has you doing, is so much better than anything I would have ever made you do." Ron prattled on.

Ginny had the grace to blush and she felt unable to meet Malfoy's eyes as he fixed her with a penetrating stare. His grey eyes piercing and accusing, as if to say "this is all your fault". And it was.

"I remember what your father did to her and what that vile witch you call your aunt did to Hermione and I think; yes they got some of what they deserved. Your dad's rotting away in Azkaban, you're here cleaning up shite and who knows, maybe your mother can be sold to someone and kept in their dungeon as a whore – "

Ginny gasped, horrified at Ron's words, then ...

 _Splat!_

She was so consumed with disbelief at Ron's ugly attack that she could only watch helplessly as mud flew towards her brother so unexpectedly fast that no one had a chance to react. For a moment everything was completely still. Not even the birds chirped or the wind rustled.

"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!" Draco hissed and his voice was deceptively calm and steady but it frightened Ginny even more. It was a demand that Ron should not take lightly. Ron whose head was looking like a garden gnome's from being completely covered in mud.

Of course her brother was a first class idiot at times who did tend to stick his foot in his mouth, so obviously Ron roared, making to plough into Draco. Working with her quick reflexes, the ones Quidditch and fighting in a War had honed in her, Ginny immediately summoned a shield charm. She hadn't realised that even with a metal spade in his hand she had protected Malfoy and not Ron.

Her brother was knocked back by the force of her shield charm and he looked over at Ginny with condemning eyes but she refused to be undermined by him. After all, Malfoy was her responsibility and that meant she was liable to protect him as well. Ron had taken his ribbing too far, something she should have seen coming knowing her untactful brother. Issuing petty words at Malfoy was one thing, speaking of a mother – no matter whose – was just as disgusting as some of the things that Malfoy had said about the Weasleys, and made Ron no better.

Ginny realised then that even though they were thoroughly justified in their loathing of Malfoy, trying to extract revenge on him made them no better than Voldemort's supporters had been. Her mother was right, Kingsley's plan for the Repentance Workshop was to rebuild and they could not do that if they were all stuck living in the past. That meant they needed to let go and move forward. Trying to settle old scores was not helping the cause.

They had been trusted to be fair and objective, right now though, Ginny had been the furthest from both than she had ever been and that realisation did not sit well with her. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had thought that Harry and Ron had at least worked past that when they had decided to let Malfoy have a go at proving himself, but it seemed that there was still some residual bitterness lingering there. Why couldn't Ron be like Harry and Hermione and keep his anger to himself, just as Malfoy was doing? That was the mature thing to do. That was the _right_ thing to do now.

"I don't think mum would appreciate a barnyard brawl in her back yard, so I think you should go inside, Ron." Ginny said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Ron eyed her wand before he nodded and walked inside. At least the War had matured Ron up enough for him to know when he was wrong now, even if he still made mistakes first. They were all still healing after all and some took longer to mend and change than others.

"Put down that spade." She told Malfoy sternly and he narrowed his eyes at her. Then he lowered it slowly although she noticed it was still waist high. Ginny sighed, it would have to do.

When Ron walked away Ginny waved her wand and immediately the entire pigsty and spade disappeared from around Malfoy. He leaned down, his hands on his knees and took in a large breath of fresh air. She felt slightly torn between hating Malfoy and actually feeling empathy for him in that moment. Ginny concluded that helping someone who didn't deserve your help did not mean that you were accepting what they had done; it just made you a bigger and better person.

Ginny knew that being the bigger person wasn't all it was cut out to be, because doing the right thing was never easy. That was something her father had always drilled into them and so she waved her wand and Malfoy was clean again. He looked at her with surprise but she turned around and went to fetch him a goblet of juice. He narrowed his eyes at her when she was facing him again.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that." He said icily and Ginny wasn't sure how she was supposed to reply to that.

"Having a go at you, you deserved honestly." Ginny said truthfully. "Ron talking about someone who isn't here to defend their self is unfair, but degrading your mother is low and completely unacceptable." She noticed his shoulders sag in … was that relief? Maybe he had been expecting another fight. Then he looked longingly but hesitantly at the goblet she was still holding out to him.

"Have you poisoned it?" He sounded weary but there was definitely a bitter edge to his voice that reassured her that the prat would be fine, he was just shaken right now, so she gave him a tiny smile.

"You'll have to try it for yourself and see." She couldn't help but remind him of his own words to her and he gave her an acknowledging smirk in return. It was not patronising or arrogant in the least and Ginny found it rather interesting.

"I'd prefer the peace offering." He muttered but reached out for the goblet nonetheless.

His warm fingers brushed hers and Ginny was reminded that he was still a human being. Flawed and sometimes awful at being one, but he wasn't a monster and she shouldn't treat him like one. He tossed back the goblet and chugged down the contents in one gulp. Ginny only felt all the more guilty for her actions, because it had been an uncommonly humid day and he had been working continuously for the entire morning. She was a better person than a vengeful, bitter witch out for blood, wasn't she?

 **. . .**

"You conjured up that sty specifically for me, didn't you?" Draco asked rhetorically and Weasley nodded in shame. Yet he smirked and she frowned at him. At seeing her obvious confusion he became slightly pleased over his current situation than before. "Not even pigs could be that filthy, unless we were talking about your brother." He commented bitterly and she gave him a reprimanding glare. "I just hope that you don't expect to make a spectacle of me again." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.

"Of course not." She said and he could hear the sincerity in her voice. "I didn't know they would come all this way from their Auror training in Norway to see you being humiliated. I wasn't even the one who told them you were going to be here."

Draco flinched at her words but he was certain he heard resentment in her voice that wasn't aimed at him. He had listened in to her conversation with Potter and she was clearly upset with the four eyed saint. That made him feel strangely pleased. At least Potter and his sidekick were also being subjected to some of the Weasley witch's wrath.

Although he thought about the Weasel King's words and the truth was, they had struck a nerve. The Weasel King had been right, Draco had slumped so low into misfortune that even the Weasel could taunt him now. Draco felt empty and saddened inside, not only because the day's physical work had left him exhausted but because his interactions with these self righteous idiots had emotionally drained him.

"I suspect I can leave now?" He just wanted to go home.

"Yeah. Yes, you can." Weasley nodded her head and he could tell she was studying him, lost in thought. He nodded and was pleased that she had at least cleaned his clothes for him. "And Malfoy, I really am sorry about Ron … He knew what he said was inexcusable, even to you, and that's why he left ..." Her voice way soft and unsure, he could see her shifting from one foot to another and Draco wondered why she was feeling remorse for him. He certainly would not have afforded her the same sentiment if the situation had been reversed.

He stared at her for a long moment and he could tell that the apology had cost her some pride. While she didn't like him and wanted him to work for his second chance, he suspected that she didn't quite have the stomach to be cruel, "even to him". He knew because he used to wear a similar look on his face when he had spoken about death so casually but could never kill anyone.

All those times he had uttered the Cruciatus Curse and couldn't make it work, days he spent crying over the harm he had caused had been both weakness and a conscience that could not be silenced when it came to the pure evil he had been tasked with. But with Weasley, it was neither of those things, it was compassion.

While he wouldn't mourn the loss of anyone he didn't care about, he didn't wish death upon any of them either, Muggles and Mudbloods alike. He knew what it felt like to fear for your life and those you loved day in and day out. How it ate you up from the inside to be forced with tasks you could not stomach because you had to protect your family. Draco couldn't live with that side of himself. He had lived with death incarnate under his roof, but he could not stomach killing. Ron didn't know the half of it. Besides, he had lives being taken, and it still haunted him.

"I expect that I won't be cleaning anymore pigsties then?" He asked with an arched eyebrow and Weasley gave him a small smile. It was gone even before he registered it but he knew she was amused by his emotional bargaining, that he was taking full advantage of her brother's lapse in judgement. After all, guilt was a leading feeling.

"No. We'll deal with those orphans and relief centres after you de-gnome my garden, feed the chicken and fix the broom shed we have here."

Draco looked appalled at her words but he was uncertain if she was joking or not. Unfortunately he was in no fit state to find out because he learned today that there was a real possibility that she was in fact being serious. She had been cunning today, with a scheme that would have made the staunchest of Slytherins proud. That however was not really what had earned her his begrudging respect.

In the end she had known that what she had been doing was wrong and she had stopped it. She had in a small way defended him from her own brother. Then she had brought over a peace offering for him. Draco knew better than anyone that it took more courage to stand up for something everyone else went against than it was to stand with everyone else. He couldn't deny that Ginny Weasley was feisty and determined but she was innately good too. Well, most of her at least.

"You know, I really wish I had never met you, Weasley." He said lazily without the usual bite to his words, the sun making him fatigued and the mild scent of flowers the breeze wafted to him a welcome reprieve from breathing in the stench of pig muck.

Draco didn't wait for her response as he walked away from her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Redeeming Draco Malfoy**

 _ **Chapter Four**_

 **SHE** handed him a dark blue clump that looked vaguely familiar and Draco narrowed his eyes at it. He did not trust anything that the she Weasley politely offered him and so he sniffed haughtily and turned his sharp nose up at it. However, the red head continued to look up expectantly at him and so Draco turned his curious gaze towards her offering.

It was the expensive dress robes he had left outside her shack yesterday after his first task. Surprise over the fact that she had not yet burned it or used it to create a voodoo doll in his image, warred with the need to say something scathing, like he didn't want anything her poor hands had sullied. However, Draco reminded himself that they were no longer at Hogwarts and he was pretending not to be a pretentious brat anymore. Well, maybe less so.

"You left this behind yesterday, so I thought I'd wash it and bring it to you today." Weasley shrugged awkwardly and in that moment Draco realised that his earlier word described her returning of his robes ideally.

It was an offering, a peace offering. "You think that washing a robe I left behind erases what you've already done?" He snatched the fine material from her hands, unable to hold back his viperous tongue. The expensive fabric wafted an unrecognizable, soft scent towards his nostrils and its pleasant smell made Draco somewhat uncomfortable over his harsh tones.

She didn't look taken aback by his rude words or reaction though. Instead she inhaled visibly and looked up at him, brown eyes blazing and fierce. "Do you think that cleaning one pigsty will ever erase some of what _you've_ already done?"

And in that moment, Ginny Weasley's honest words cut to the quick of everything that Draco had been feeling recently. The anger at his father, the indignation over his situation, the pity for himself and the loathing for her was left exposed for her to gawk at. He was bare and vulnerable, left open to her scrutiny and he didn't like it one bloody bit. Did the humiliation he had been subjected to over that one pigsty make up for any of the questionable things he had done during the War? The answering _'no'_ that resounded in his head was not something that Draco could push to the recesses of his mind, even being skilled at Occlumency.

So he kept silent, allowing her to delve into his vulnerability and come to her own conclusions over his downfall and his participation in the blasted Redemption Workshop. Her expression was openly curious but he stood before her, tall and proud, refusing to utter the words of regret he knew she was expecting. For that moment he allowed himself to be judged by the one witch who ultimately had the largest say in his future. That was when Draco realised that he was finally empty. There were no paltry prejudices or passion for power within him any longer and that meant that he was finally free to be whoever the hell he wanted to be. Draco felt as if a weight had been lifted off of him. Now he just needed to figure out who he was.

When she nodded her head, as if accepting whatever it was she had seen in his weakness, Draco gave her a dry smirk before looking around the expanse of country area she had asked him to meet her at. "Where to from here, then?"

 **. . .**

They never did end up going back to Ottery St Catchpole – to fix broom sheds or de-gnome gardens – for which Draco was eternally grateful. He didn't think he could stomach the sight of a self righteous Potter or worse, a gloating Weasley again and he certainly did not want to be tortured by memories of his embarrassing first task either. That was something Draco wanted desperately to forget.

It was still too fresh in his mind to ever want to go back to anything that reminded him of pigsties and he had sorely been put off from pork as well. His mother didn't blame him. Narcissa Malfoy was awfully upset by her son's first task and was about to _"go have a few words with that Weasley girl"_ when Draco had halted her.

Draco may not be ready to relive his past but he had accepted it. In a funny way, the humiliation brought on by cleaning that pigsty, was nothing compared to the shame of living because Potter had saved his life or having being punched by Weasley during the War, because at least he hadn't owed those pigs anything. In a strange way, the incident felt like the worse had been over and done with, allowing Draco to finally move on. He had certainly earned some reprieve from the littlest Weasley's wicked ways as well.

Draco looked over at the witch in question. "Janey, would you please pass me more nails."

He couldn't understand why Weasley was choosing to work alongside him and the other groups in the Redemption Workshop. At first he had guessed that maybe it was one of those genes that she possessed, which the Malfoys had missed, the one that made you want to do good without any compensation for it, but later Draco realised that she actually enjoyed doing the things that she did. It showed clearly when she worked with a look of blazing determination on her face or when she stood back to admire her success with pride beaming on her lips.

She would sometimes turn to her wand when she was in a fix, like when she couldn't figure out how to assemble that stupid Muggle newspaper stand she was trying to put up. In her frustration she had huffed and hit the wood with a spell so she didn't have to ask for help. She was stubborn and a tad bit prideful, but she could be because she was extremely resourceful and capable.

Weasley was well liked by most of their peers, except for the ones who weren't there by choice, like him. That did not seem to bother her though. And while she mostly stayed out of his hair, except for telling him what to do, suggesting he do things differently, or commenting on his days work, Draco had come to tolerate her temporary presence in his life. There were times though, when he would look up from whatever it was he was doing, and would find her watching him with a heavy frown on her forehead. Those moments were considerably more difficult to bear than her bossy nature.

Draco focused his attention on Weasley who had a spot of white paint on her forehead, as if she had unintentionally pushed a rebellious tendril of her red hair back in frustration. She was busy using her wand to clean her hands. As if sensing he was looking at her, she lifted bright brown eyes on him, their gazes meeting. Out of pride, Draco did not look down, instead raising a blonde eyebrow questioningly at her. Her brows knitted together before she made her way towards him, her gait easy but always purposeful.

"I was thinking, since there isn't anyone here we know from Hogwarts, that maybe we could have lunch together today." It wasn't the fact that she didn't bother with any pleasantries and just spoke to him bluntly that bothered Draco – he was used to her abrupt mannerisms by now – but rather by her suggestion that they have lunch together.

While they would generally stay in close proximity during his activities, Draco would normally spend the blissful hour away from Muggle work with the other Slytherins who were present on site that day. Then he realised that Weasley was right, there was no one they knew personally from Hogwarts there today.

"You want to eat with me?" He couldn't help the uncertain words that escaped his throat and he inwardly cringed at the fact that they had not even sounded pompous.

If Weasley noticed though, which he was sure she did because nothing seemed to escape her owlish gaze, she did not comment on it. Instead she offered him a timid smile, the first he had seen, and shrugged her shoulders in reply. It occurred to him that she was probably just as sceptical about her invitation as he was but curiosity got the best of him.

"All right." He accepted awkwardly.

She nodded her flaming head once more, and for a second Draco thought that she was reconsidering her proposal. "Right." She said uncertainly, before turning around and walking off, grabbing her bag from the outstation on the way. Unsure of what else to do, Draco followed her, once again becoming somewhat annoyed at having to do so. So he easily bridged the gap between them with his long legs, falling in step beside her.

They left the normal dining area that was set up for the volunteers of the Redemption Workshop and were soon following a trail across the grassy yard towards a hilltop.

While Draco had never been an outdoorsy sort of person, he did enjoy the open fields when he was flying. He loved the country air on his face, the feel of the sweet wind rushing through his hair and he enjoyed nothing more than the freedom of being so high up from the ground that everything else paled in comparison to his vantage point in the sky. It was intoxicating.

Weasley plopped down unceremoniously on the grass and Draco hesitated. While he had wondered where his assessor normally went to during their lunch hours, he had never bothered to find out. Now he knew.

"Well?" The red head enquired, clearly amused. "Are you going to sit down or will you just stand there, gawking, because you're afraid of getting a little dirt on your expensive clothes."

Draco pursed his full lips. "If you haven't noticed, Weasley, my clothes are already mucked up with all sorts of unsightly stains."

Draco sat down beside her and he actually felt a little rebellious at his actions nowadays. His father had sent him numerous letters – all of which he had ignored, of course – asking him to do whatever it took to help Lucius' trial in the coming months and that annoyed Draco. However just the thought of what his sire would think if Malfoy senior could see his son sitting on a grass bank with a Weasley, almost made it worth it. Almost.

Draco didn't much fancy the thought that Weasley was ultimately still the one in control of his life, but he was grateful that she no longer rubbed it in his face or tried to demean him with that fact now. Although she certainly did make him work for everything, something Draco had oddly grown accustomed to, following his initial bout of flagrant disgust that is. After her last question, about this workshop making amends for what he had done, he realised then that the past wasn't easy to forget. Something he knew all too well.

Weasley placed her hand into her bag and dug out two containers from it. She handed him one without looking at him, her attention still on her satchel. While his reluctance made him hesitate and extremely uncomfortable over the intimacy of sharing lunch with a poor person, he could hardly tell her that. And he had not thought of grabbing something from the food stand the workshop provided before following Weasley. So Draco grudgingly took the lunchbox from her and muttered his thanks inaudibly.

Weasley paid him no heed though, placing her own container on the ground next to her before plunging her slender hand into her bag once more. Draco idly wondered if she had known all along that she was going to invite him to have lunch with her, because why else would a witch have two meals with her. The notion gave him a small sense of pleasure because this could mean that she wanted to learn more about him in the hopes of changing her views on him. He wasn't sure how much of a difference getting to know him would really make, but he could pretend with the best of them if he needed to.

She came out with two bottles of pumpkin juice this time and handed it to him distractedly, bringing Draco out of his reverie. This time Draco was less reluctant to accept the drink. Weasley opened her lunchbox and the smells that came out from it were absolutely mouth-watering. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten a proper, home cooked shepherd's pie. So Draco eagerly opened up his own box.

He imperceptibly sniffed at it once more and decided that anything edible which smelt that good, most definitely could not be poisonous. Draco dug in. As soon as the soft mash and rich, saucy meat touched his tongue his glands salivated and he did his best not to slurp up his food in one go like a greedy ogre.

He looked to the side and was pleased to see that while Weasley was watching him through the corner of her eye, she did not make it obvious. When he looked directly at her she lifted her head and stared straight ahead. A slight breeze blew and Draco wasn't sure if the light floral scent wafting towards him was coming from the field they sat in or from the witch sitting next to him.

After a few peaceful moments, where the companionable silence between them was only punctuated by the sound of their forks touching their plastic containers or their appreciative chewing, Weasley set her container of food aside and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet from her satchel. He heard her groan.

"Urgh, that woman." Weasley spat as she disgustedly threw the Daily Prophet down beside them and opened up her pumpkin juice forcefully. She either hadn't noticed that she had spilled some liquid over the side of her fingers or didn't care.

"Skeeter?" Draco questioned. You didn't have to be Hermione Granger to know that only one woman could elicit such a vile reaction from anyone who read the wizarding newspaper.

"Yes." Weasley hissed like an angry cat and curiosity got the best of him when the red head did not elaborate.

"What has she done this time?" Draco asked.

The newspapers and magazines of the Wizarding world had finally started to print their versions of his relations with Weasley. While some were calling it the love story of the century – Draco scoffed at this – some were attacking Weasley, himself or them both. The first conclusion was hilarious, as it seemed that some reporters fancied themselves aspiring romance novelists, because some of the tripe they spouted would never be true, even if Weasley and himself were a couple. Weasley on the other hand was being called a gold digger by some, bringing up her disadvantaged past and making her out to be nothing more than a scheming money grubber. This theory wasn't quite far off to what Draco would have initially expected from her or labelled her as himself. However, after spending a week with Weasley, he could tell without a shadow of a doubt, that gold meant absolutely nothing to her. Mostly because of how cavalier she had been about giving away his own wealth.

Then, of course there were the never ending accusations that he was simply courting Weasley for status and to ensure she kept him out of Azkaban. That would be closer to the truth than any of the other rubbish the wizarding rags were publishing. However Draco was most pleased with himself over the fact that he had not had to do anything underhanded to make Weasley see him in a different light. Apparently his cleaning of a pigsty had seen to that, which also made it easier for Draco to overlook that incident now. They were beyond that at least.

This also made Draco feel surprisingly free and pleased about their situation. Unencumbered, because he knew that whatever Weasley's final decision would be, he would have personally earned it. Not something he was able to say about any of his other … _accomplishments_ in the past. When the articles had started to make their rounds, he and Weasley had looked over a few publications together at first, discussed it and in the end decided to ignore the stories. Therefore, it must have been something new to gain such a disgusted reaction from her.

Weasley set down her drink and grabbed the newspaper again. "The fiercely beautiful red head, who is famous for dating powerful wizards, has managed to _charm_ the cold hearted and corrupt Draco Malfoy into going against his family's tradition for the sake of _love_. Young Mr Malfoy seems to be completely _bewitched_ by Miss Weasley's _tactics_ if the amount of charities he has been funding and aiding of late, is anything to go by." Weasley read out with disgust.

Really? Had they met Weasley? Draco thought as he only half listened to her rendition of Skeeter's article. While still under Ministry jurisdiction, the Malfoy's requests for gold for personal uses was first subjected to week long clearances before allowing Draco and Narcissa withdrawals, except for when it was being used for donations to magical Britain. Therefore Draco knew that Weasley was not avaricious, because anyone with access to that amount of gold would not give it away so freely.

If nothing else – philanthropic habits and dominating traits aside – she was undoubtedly an honest witch. While Draco would have been blasé about such a character trait before, he was glad that she was his assessor now, if only because he knew she would treat him and his wealth fairly.

"Someone has mentioned that I dated Harry back at school and Skeeter has managed to drag him into it. Apparently the reason Harry has " _fled"_ England was so that he could get over his heartbreak and I should be ashamed of myself for ditching _"the best wizard in the Universe"_ for the complete antithesis of Harry Potter _"and all that is good, for social advancement, power and wealth!"._ Weasley babbled furiously, her face going a motley red. "Honestly, how convenient that she forgot to mention what a wealthy wizard Harry is."

Draco sneered at this. Of course famous Harry Potter would eventually be dragged into his and Weasley's affairs. After all, nothing sold rubbish more than Scarhead himself. "I must owl Harry tonight, as if he needs the extra publicity. That woman just loves sullying his name. Horrible cow." Weasley continued to rant as she snapped furiously at her food and chewed in frustration.

Draco cringed at how Weasley spoke so highly of Potter, because regardless of being the saviour of the world, Draco still didn't care for Potter and he doubted he ever would. Draco may not hate the other wizard any longer. It was hard to hate Scarhead while he was busy hating his father and himself, because that was already a lot of feelings to go around.

"He's wealthy?" Draco asked, because he couldn't think of anything else to say and the silence between them suddenly felt too awkward to maintain. Also, he would have never guessed it by the way Potter dressed or the company the other wizard kept.

Weasley looked like she had said too much. Then, she shrugged. "His parents left him very well taken care off and his Godfather was a Black."

Draco became even more uncomfortable at the mention of a dead relative he had never met before. His mother had never spoken to him about Sirius or Andromeda. To be honest, he had never bothered to ask about them either. After all, what had he cared for a couple of blood traitors? Relatives or not, the disowned Blacks had never ran in the same social circles as the Malfoys had.

"So, what happened between you and Potter anyway?" Draco asked more to change the subject than any real interest in the answer, but he noticed Weasley stiffening beside him. This made him curious.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw that she wasn't glaring daggers at him but merely seemed to be lost in thought, as she looked out at the clear skies before them. He was glad that it hadn't begun to rain; Weasley's attitude was gloomy enough as is.

She took a long while to speak and her silence only made Draco realise that he was actually intrigued to know what had happened now. It was obvious that they weren't a couple anymore because she had not pointed out that she would never leave Potter for Draco or that she was madly in love with Scarhead.

"If I tell you, will you answer something for me as well?" Draco was not exactly surprised by her request. Weasley could be very shrewd when she wanted to be.

While there were things that he didn't wish to talk about, he didn't think that Weasley was the type of shallow minded witch who wanted to ask about battle scars or what it had been like to go after Mudbloods for the Dark Lord. There was also, possibly very little that she didn't know about his life since they had been to school together and so, after a thoughtful pause, Draco acquiesced.

"It just fell apart." Draco tuned to look at her because he was surprised that there was no whining bitterness or resentment in her voice. There was neither any longing or regret in her tone either. Her eyes were clear and accepting. "Harry is wonderful and amazing but that was the problem."

Draco couldn't help but snort at that. "Yes, he does tend to become rather annoying with how wonderful he is, doesn't he."

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked way. Draco noticed a small spot of sauce below her full bottom lip, but refrained from mentioning this little fact to her. He didn't mind her walking around in embarrassment. All right, so maybe Draco was still faintly peeved over the pigsty incident.

"Actually, you're partly right, but I didn't mind it at the time. It was one of the things I really liked about him." Draco was really confused now but he was not going to admit that to Weasley so he was glad when she continued of her own accord. "He kept putting me last. At first it was fine, things were still relatively new between us and he had a war to fight. I understood. Then when he came back, and we had won, it was still about everyone else first. Making sure the family was fine, rounding up the other Death Eaters, sitting in on trials, clearing Sirius' name, but it was never solely about me."

Then she did sound a smidgen bitter but Draco didn't blame her. She had obviously waited a long time for Potter. She had had a crush on him since she was old enough to know what feelings were. Draco could also completely understand the way she felt. One of the things that had annoyed him about the other wizard was how self righteous Potter could be. Everything had ultimately been black and white for Saint Potter, and maybe in the great Chosen One's world, everything was, but not everyone was as privileged in regard to choices.

"At first I blamed myself because I had always been so strong and capable of handling my emotions, but that was just who I was and Harry liked that about me. But I was also a girl who had just fought in a war, seen people die … lost loved ones." At this her voice cracked slightly and Draco looked away uneasily. However Weasley seemed to be too lost in thought to expect a response from him. Draco cleared his throat softly and she blinked before coming out of her own mind and continuing. "And I needed him. So naturally I took matters into my own hands."

"Naturally." Draco added snidely and wasn't surprised when she shot him a dark glare. Yet she continued on anyway and he didn't stop her.

"Somehow it just stopped feeling right. It felt like I was always giving more and he was still just half way in it. Of course no one could accuse the great Harry Potter of being selfish, Merlin forbid, with all he was doing it would come across as if I was behaving like a self-centred, little girl." Ginny shrugged but Draco could tell that the thought had bothered her greatly. Possibly still did.

"I'm only human and I felt like I deserved some part of him too; however he never gave that to me. I always came last. He could barely even bring himself to open up to me, as if I couldn't handle it, always turning to Ron and Hermione when nightmares wouldn't let him sleep. As the weeks went into months and our relationship felt more stagnant than ever, as if I would just be there when he decided he wanted me, I realised that even while I was with him, something was missing."

"That's when I realised that I wasn't a twelve year old girl anymore. Or even sixteen for that matter." She gave a wry laugh that was slightly self-depreciating and Draco couldn't help but be more enraptured by her tale. "The War forced us to grow up quicker, made us wiser beyond our years and I could tell that being with Harry would always leave me feeling conflicted over feeling the way I did and the way I should. I didn't want to feel like I was being forced to be someone else for him. That isn't love."

She looked up at him with beseeching eyes and Draco swallowed. She was obviously looking for reassurance from him and he wondered if she had spoken to anyone else about this. He had never been one for words before, unless they were to insult or cut down, and he had never deemed them necessary with a witch either. Pansy spoke for the both of them and she had always preferred to interpret his silences in which ever way suited her best, unless he said otherwise. Draco watched as Ginny's eyes became uncertain at his silence and he knew he had just led her to believe that she was a horrible, selfish person. However she had looked for reassurance in the wrong place.

"Right, err, we better get back then. It's getting late." She gave him a strained smile and got up, dusting her jeans haphazardly as she gathered all their things to leave.

Draco felt frustrated, sitting there while she made off, clearly harried. He felt annoyed that Weasley would look to him of all people for reassurance and more pissed off with himself for wishing that he had given it to her. It wasn't really a feeling he understood because he certainly shouldn't care what the Weasley thought, but she hadn't been selfish and he knew that. That was the truth, and he should have told her that, if nothing else.

 **. . .**

Ginny was keeping away cans of paint and paintbrushes by hand when long fingers took a particularly big brush from her hold. Ginny looked up startled, her hand automatically clenching tighter around the wooden handle. Malfoy's skin wasn't cold or slimy as she would have expected them to be. It was warm and strong and there was something so reassuring about his hold that Ginny felt her grip loosen on the brush as he gently pried it from her fingers.

Surprised, Ginny could only arch an eyebrow at him as he normally did with her. She saw a ghost of a smirk dance across his shapely lips before he looked straight into her eyes. There was something set and determined that glinted there and she was glad she hadn't spoken yet.

"You're not selfish, you know. If anyone deserves that title, it's me." He spoke so simply and easily that Ginny could only stare at him, half in shock and half in relief. She really had been burdened after her confession earlier on. Malfoy's silence had made her feel like a right cow, especially since he had been the only person she had confided her feelings to.

Words failed Ginny for the very first time in her life. She stood there, before Malfoy, mouth agape. It was strange to think that she had confided in him with the hopes of finally having someone tell her that she hadn't made a mistake by walking away from Harry, but she had. Yes, she wanted to ask him a few questions of her own, so she had answered honestly in the hopes that he would do the same later on, but there was more to it. If Draco Malfoy, the most selfish snake in the universe could tell her truthfully that she wasn't a terrible person, then Ginny would feel less of the guilt that still plagued her at night.

It was a pitiful way to find reassurance, especially since he hated Harry. Malfoy was the last person she should be talking to, but he was also the only person who had asked her why she had broken up with Harry. The rest of her friends and family were either trying to be supportive, telling her that they understood, that she was still young and there would be time enough for relationships later, or they were trying to defend Harry. So what if she had confided in Malfoy, at least he had bothered to listen to her, not just hear her. Now that he had told her that she wasn't selfish, Ginny was feeling rather shell shocked.

"Close your mouth, Weasley, you're unattractive as is." Draco said snidely, lifting her chin with his forefinger but Ginny couldn't help but notice that his mean words were actually void of any malice.

"Oh good, there's the Draco Malfoy I know and despise. For a moment there I thought you were actually being nice." Ginny joked and Malfoy rolled his grey eyes at her.

"I'm never nice." He commented dryly and Ginny grinned at this, feeling a sense of relief that she hadn't felt in a while now.

Ginny plopped down on the plastic covered floor, deciding to just sit back and enjoy the tension she had been carrying from earlier leaving her body. She pulled out her wand and did a complex wave that looked effortless with her ability and the room immediately started to right itself. Draco looked around and she knew he was amazed at how much of the room was his own work. She could tell he was feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment at seeing what he had put in and produced for the restoration of the homes the War had damaged. He slowly sat down across from her and Ginny also couldn't help but notice that sitting on cold floors had become habitual for him now. Were as the old Malfoy used to fuss and look down in contempt at her careless habits, this new Malfoy, a growing one, no longer did so.

"You could have done that earlier and yet even though you aren't the one who needs to prove themselves, you still help in the tasks, without magic." He said casually with a disinterested look but Ginny knew he was actually asking why instead of just making an observation.

She hadn't expected him to take notice of what she was doing but decided that it was to be expected when they had been working in close proximity for the last week. "I'm not new to doing things the Muggle way. We were never allowed to do things with magic at home until we came of age."

Malfoy scoffed but he refrained from making a scornful remark about her family and it didn't slip Ginny's notice. They were clearly making progress. Then she thought about their conversation earlier on. "So, I think the next test is to see if you can keep your word."

Malfoy looked at her. "I've always kept up to my word, Weasley." At Ginny's disbelieving look, he added, "to those who matter, of course."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well let's see if you can keep your word to someone who doesn't matter. That's what really counts, you know." When Malfoy didn't say anything more, Ginny continued. "Why haven't you visited your father as yet?"

Ginny watched as Malfoy's head snapped up to look at her. He did it so fast a lock of his normally well held hair fell forward. His gaze turned hard. "How do you know that?" His voice was icy and withdrawn again. She wondered how he controlled his emotions so well.

Ginny shrugged. "I checked." She said simply. When he continued to glare mutinously at her Ginny continued. "I told you something personal about my life – "

"You didn't have to." He cut in.

Ginny ignored him. "In return you promised to answer a question of mine."

Malfoy glared at her for a long moment but Ginny was no longer intimidated by his dark looks. He had stared at her equally fiercely many times during the past week, that she had actually become accustomed to his steely gazes. She did not feel a jot of uncertainty at his glare now. While Malfoy possessed a freezing veneer, Ginny wondered how much of that was actually just him protecting his many vulnerabilities. She decided that throwing him into that pigsty was the best thing she could have done first up. And Ron pushing Malfoy, that had been an added bonus.

It had certainly showed Ginny a side of the wizard she had never been privy to before, a more mature and stronger Malfoy. He was a man who was trying, in his own pompous ways, to make amends for his mistakes, someone who regretted what he had done. Even if he still was a callous, prickly, taciturn oaf, he was far better than who he used to be. After Ginny had returned his robes to him and he had accepted it, it had felt like they were at least trying to put up with each other, even if they still did not like one another. That was all right though. It was something they knew and felt comfortable with. Not liking each other was easy to deal with. A glower here, an insult there – nothing new, all done before.

"I worshiped my father." Draco finally said when Ginny thought she would need to push a little more, because she never was one to be easily dissuaded. "I would always go to him to complain or ask for something, even though I went to mother for sympathy and affection. I think I valued what father said the most." His smile was self-depreciating.

Ginny noticed that he didn't look at her though. He was staring off into the distance, his steely grey eyes shining with loss and Ginny felt her heart unwillingly lurch for him. She knew loss. Just because his father was alive, it didn't mean that Draco hadn't lost someone too. The man Draco had known was gone now. Replaced by all the bad things Draco could remember about his father because those were the memories that were still fresh in his mind, salt to his wounds.

"We were pure bloods, we had to maintain that. Father always told me that and I always believed him. I still do." At this, Malfoy looked up as if asking Ginny to contradict him or hate him for his beliefs but she kept silent, waiting for him to continue. "Yet I don't believe that we have to fight or kill for it. You shouldn't force people to follow an age old way. The only constant is change."

Ginny heard the unspoken words in his voice. How he had been forced to do things he didn't want to do. The result of failure could not have been pretty for the Malfoys and Ginny realised that during Voldemort's reign, the Malfoy's had been just as good as Muggle borns, half bloods or blood-traitors. Possibly even worse. If Voldemort's followers refused to comply with orders, there would be no mercy for them, no escape from their master's wrath.

Draco saw understanding flash in Ginny's eyes. He gave her a cold smirk. "Yes, it was no better being on the inside than it was on the outside, unless you were as demented as Bellatrix or even as inconsiderate as my father. They killed people." Ginny saw Draco grit his teeth at this admission, a muscle in his jaw ticking in anger. "I had never really understood what that had meant until I was asked to do it too, until I witnessed it over my dining room table."

Ginny couldn't believe that Malfoy was speaking so frankly with her and so she didn't make a single noise for fear of scaring him into stopping. She wondered if he had told anyone about this before. His voice was rusty and uncertain. She had never before stopped to actually think about those that were caught in between. The ones that had been cursed with the choice their parents or elders had already made; those who never had the opportunity to make their own decisions.

What if her parents and family had been a part of the Death Eaters, would she have felt as prejudiced as the Slytherins had? Ginny would like to think not, but she could have been just as messed up as Draco had been. And that, essentially, was what he was. Nothing about him was innocent or evil.

"No." Draco hissed sharply and Ginny jumped slightly at his tone. "Don't pity me." He said harshly. "As much as I did it to protect myself and my family, at first I wanted the power the Dark Lord was offering me. Complete antithesis of Potter you said, and that's what I wanted to be. If I had successfully completed my mission, then I would have been revered and favoured amongst them, just as he was by the other half."

Ginny didn't agree or disagree with this confession because it was so sincere and unflattering. His words were raw but he was determined not to garner any pity from her. Whether he felt himself unworthy of it, or too prideful to accept it, she couldn't quite tell. However Ginny was not so cold hearted as to remain unmoved by Malfoy's honest vulnerability.

"I always preferred to remain on the side lines but I was also miserable over Potter's standing in our world. I felt that he didn't deserve any of it and I craved power. I was greedy for it as first, until I realised at what price it came. So I reverted, weakly trying to sit on the fences once again. That may not make me the best being alive but it is who I am, it's what I was taught and I didn't know better until I learned about it for myself. I wouldn't kill, but I wouldn't help either."

At this Ginny couldn't help but think that that was not entirely true. He may not have been strong enough to help but he hadn't turned Harry, Ron and Hermione in at Malfoy Manor either. He clearly wasn't as weak as he thought himself to be either. He had given them ample time to escape. He didn't like Voldemort and he didn't like Harry as well, but he never agreed with either of them. He went along his own way and caused trouble where he could.

So had Harry, Ron, Hermione and even herself at times. They might have been fighting for the right cause but they hadn't tried to help anyone on the other side for all their morals and values. Malfoy was an insufferable, arrogant git but that was what he was. Nothing more, nothing less. He wasn't evil. The thought made Ginny feel elated. She didn't have to feel conflicted about her decisions over his fate any longer.

Deciding to call it a night Ginny got up. She dusted herself off but didn't take her eyes off of Malfoy. "I don't disagree with you, Malfoy. You're a right git, but that doesn't mean you're hopeless."

Ginny bit her bottom lip as Malfoy finally looked up at her. His face was blank, carefully expressionless and she wondered if maybe the time had come for her to finally put her own ideas about Draco Malfoy aside. Maybe Hermione had been right, she really did need to be objective about him as person, because she would never be able to live with herself if she condemned someone to hell if they didn't deserve it.

So Ginny held out her hand, trying her best to control the limb from shaking. His face might have been blank, but his eyes were roiling with emotions and while Ginny couldn't place them, she felt the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding swoosh slowly out of her chest when he put his hand in hers.

Ginny helped him up. He watched her, his grey eyes piercing and for a moment, they stood there, their hands still loosely clasped in between each other. Then they released one another, both slightly uncomfortably by the physical contact. But Ginny smiled up sincerely at Draco before bidding him goodnight. They were definitely making progress.

 **. . .**

 **Author's Note:** _I have to admit, I struggled with this chapter because the original draft seemed so unrealistic for Draco and Ginny's progress and some scenes just came across as immature for me. Therefore the delay in posting. As always, let me know what you guys think, reviews really light up heart and help me overcome blockages when writing. Thank you to all those who continuously support my stories!_

 _Nova*_


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